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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470149">Do You Believe In God?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absence_Of_The_Sun/pseuds/Absence_Of_The_Sun'>Absence_Of_The_Sun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, anime - Fandom, 進撃の巨人 | Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Military Training, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Slavery, Slow Burn, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:21:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>26,096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absence_Of_The_Sun/pseuds/Absence_Of_The_Sun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Blood was all you had come to know, the only thing fuelling your pitiful existence - To rage hellfire on all those who ever harmed you, all those you took it upon themselves to destroy you bit by bit.<br/>But these habits could only go on for so long, and when Captain Levi Ackerman of the Scout Regiment was sent after to you to bring your bloodlust to an end, you became entrapped in a whole new world of loss.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jean Kirstein/Reader, Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Reader, Levi Ackerman &amp; Reader, Levi Ackerman/Jean Kirstein/Reader, levi x reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Chain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain</em>
</p><p>What defines a life well spent? Many would say a long, fulfilled one, with a family, enough money to live comfortably, and the safety of a big fuck-off wall to avoid being eaten alive. You know, the simple stuff.</p><p>For you though? You knew that there were far worse enemies out there than giant, kind of cannibalistic monsters waiting for the opportunity to shove a city down their throat, as awful as that sounds. The real enemy was the people. The people in their big houses with their blind partners and ridiculous amounts of money. They were the biggest threats against mankind, with the ability to do anything for the right price. You knew that all too well.</p><p>6432, 6433, 6434...</p><p>The journey from the back end of Trost to the Stohess was the only dreaded part of your missions, and the underground systems were an eyesore in the first five minutes, let alone the hour that followed. Navigation was never too difficult with your one job being to follow the near straight path into the city but, alas, it was an ancient system. The first six members of your list had, thankfully, been from Ehrmich in Sheena and Karanes in Rose, but upon clearing them off the map, you had to venture further to meet your goals.</p><p>6999, 7000, 7001...</p><p>The underground tunnels that you discovered and took stretched out, presumably, through walls Sheena and Rose, though you had never attempted to expand your horizons to the lands behind you, having absolutely no need. They had been abandoned back when the walls first went up in favour of better sewage systems, leaving them to crumble over the years of misuse, almost completely forgotten by the Government.</p><p>7305, 7306, 7307...</p><p>The only reason you had been introduced to them was sheer luck, finding a passageway long forgotten near the Northern Radius of the Capital, hidden under piles of rotting boxes, and you had been expanding your knowledge of them since. It made them familiar to you, they were what brought you to Isha and Leon Krüger, and the space above their Inn you had been fortunate enough to call a home, or at least a room. They were what handed your revenge to you on a silver platter, and for that you were thankful.</p><p>7841, 7842, 7843...</p><p>The tunnels were built up in what you assumed to be ochre-grey stone, with a dip in the centre for sewage to fly through, though the walls around you were now a flaky black, and the only thing in the rounded hole between the pathways were dust, bugs, and the odd animal carcass. The skeletal remains of cats and rats once made you feel ill, though the crunch of their bones beneath your feet no longer bothered you. You had long since adjusted to death.</p><p>8040, 8041, 8042...</p><p>The end of your journey was approaching, a good thing seeing as your candle was nearly all burnt out, leaving only your reserve for the walk back home. You raised it above you and peered upwards, counting your steps to ensure you were at least in the vicinity of your escape. 8201, 8202, 8203... Gotcha!</p><p>The covers to the entrances were all marked by a gold circle, bronzed by time, in the middle of the loose bricks. It was up to you to haul yourself up, the builders having never made ladders up and down or just being too freakishly tall to need them. No matter though, with a few aimed jumps, you could push them up and aside in no time.</p><p>Adrenaline coursed through your system as you went about your usual precautions before a mission. Your legs were covered loosely with a pair of Isha and Leon's son, Tommen's, dark trousers, and your white cotton shirt was mostly covered by the thick, black coat draped around your shoulders, hiding your frame almost perfectly. With a whistle, you pulled your faded baker boy hat from your head and began wrapping your (H/C) hair into a twist, flipping your head over and latching it back on tightly to conceal the locks. Your face wasn't particularly manly, but could pass for boyish at a glance, and that's all most people ever got of you.</p><p>Satisfied with your precautions, you braced yourself, rocking side to side in your boots before drawing down to your knees and launching up, knocking a brick slightly. You cursed as it merely knocked in place before setting yourself back into position, building up the momentum to hit it at just the right angle. Your legs extended, pushing your body up, the palms of your hands meeting brick and...</p><p>Score!</p><p>It dislodged, sliding up and to the side, giving you a hole just big enough to wedge yourself through. Patting your hands against your coat, you jumped once more, slinging onto the ledge before hauling your body up, using only your arms to propel yourself into daylight.</p><p>Finally.</p><p>The warm sounds of life clashed with the evening sun, just beginning to cast shade over the city as it hovered in the distance. The air was still light, the heat of the afternoon just beginning to ebb into a comfortable evening breeze, just a reminder of the summer drawing close. You didn't have time to appreciate the finer aspects, though, you had to get your ass in gear. With a sigh, you rolled yourself over and kicked the brick back into place, the aged circle melted into it, gleaming slightly in the dying gold cast by the sun, and readjusted your hat, tipping it slightly so that the peak rested just above your brows. Dipping your head down, you put both of your hands in the large coat pockets and swung out of the alleyway, bracing yourself with the anxiety pumping through your system.</p><p>You had chosen this particular entrance to the city being that it was the closest to the inner wall of the district, and only a five minute walk from the nights target. Emmett Schneider was the ninth mission on your list, and not the last by a long shot, but these things take time to plan. On your fifth, you had nearly been caught, on your seventh, you almost got yourself stuck in a burning building. On your eighth, however, Ryker Meyer, just happened to be a corrupt member of the Garrison, leaving you with a golden opportunity to steal his 3DMG and a surprise four canisters of extra gas alongside it. </p><p>Was the abandoned tunnels a good place to use the gear? No. Did you even have a clue how to use it in the first place? Also no. But on god if you didn't give it a try, and try you did. In fact, despite the tiny caverns being a horrible place to move incredibly fast, you had gotten the grips of the flying death machines, and you were assured, at least, that you could make a mildly efficient, speedy escape if need be. It also just so happened that it all fit quite snugly, concealed within your coat, and Ryker was of slight enough frame that his belts fit you decently.</p><p>Emmett Schneider wasn't the wealthiest of the people on your list, nor was he the worst offender, but his work in trafficking made him one of the deadliest. He hadn't been directly involved in your case, but you had met plenty of people who spoke his name with pure venom on their tongue, the man being the head of many organised attacks throughout the walls.</p><p>Tonight that would end.</p><p>With evening drawing, and most people heading home to their families for the night ahead, the streets were dark and nearly empty by the time you approached the house. Alike the in Rose, the Stohess District followed the regime that the wealthiest lived closest to the capitol, with the houses downgrading the closer to the walls they were. You were just lucky that he didn't live outside the districts, you didn't need that pain in your arse.</p><p>Emmett's house was still fairly grand; a semi-detach that spanned three stories high and had empty flowerbeds hanging on ever windowsill, filled with smoked out cigarettes. The night time made it even easier to put the 3DMG to good use. </p><p>Sticking to the shadows, aware of his neighbours, you rounded yourself to the alleyway between his house and another, a thin stretch of shadow with no windows along either wall. Perfect. You had no need to fill the grips with blades, their length being an issue in terms of close combat, especially inside, so you merely parted your coat to allow for the hooks to emerge unobstructed, aimed yourself, and fired up onto the roof. You were actually surprised by your own silence, feeling the great freedom of launching through the air, wing whipping your clothes and hair until your feet hit solid ground.</p><p>You kept your body close to the roof, wary of possible onlookers, as you crept along to the side facing the west of Wall Sheena. Far less houses on that side, far less people to notice and get in the way of your plan. The tiling felt cool against your hands, occasionally shifting with your weight and causing you to nearly lose your grip. Alas, you prevailed, reaching the end of the house. Oh so carefully, you held tight onto the edge of the building and peered your head over the stone. Three windows on the top floor, all within range. Suppressing a smile, you edged along to the centre the structure, double checked to ensure your positioning was correct, and hauled yourself up into a frog-like position. Your hands were held tight onto the lining of the roof, giving you a suitable dip to hang onto, while your toes were either side, your heels hung in mid air. From here you had an incredible view of the rising moon, stars twinkling in the fresh night air, and the extinguishing lights of the houses around you. Oh how oblivious they all were.</p><p>Gritting your teeth, you took one last steady breath and launched your legs backwards, gripping onto the roof with all your might as your body lurched, aching to fall flat on your arse on the ground below. They swung as your hands remained firm, aching from the pressure of holding your weight, before plunging through the window. Your boots made the impact, shattering the glass in an instant and protecting your legs from the sharp fragments as you let go, using the momentum to sling your body through the jagged hole and rolling on your side as you met the carpet within. You didn't have time to come to your senses, a sharp gasp having you spring to your feet in seconds, your hands going straight to the belt loops behind your gear. </p><p>Emmett Schneider sat, slack jawed in his office chair, sets of leather-bound books laid out strategically about the desk, a quill dripping fresh ink in his hand.</p><p>"Expecting me?" You breathed, dipping your head back as you tried to catch your breath, your skin sweaty within the thick layers of concealment around your body. The adrenaline mixed with throwing yourself off a roof and into someones window really took it out of you, huh?</p><p>Emmett remained horrified, mouth agape as he spluttered for something to say. His deep emerald eyes widened, as though your appearance was just setting in as he scrambled to his seat, sending his chair back off its legs with a thump of wood. "Y-you-" He spluttered, raising a pointed finger, hand still clutching his pen.</p><p>"Yes, yes," You drawled, rolling your aching shoulders, aware of the knot formed from the fall. "Me. I'd be excited too." It wasn't that you were a completely bloodthirsty freak, driven only by a need for blood; someone who took enjoyment out of killing. However, putting wankers like Emmett in his place sent a thrill down your spine and you loved to make them squirm.</p><p>He was fast, but you had trained yourself to be a lot faster. Years of discipline for dropping eggs, knocking vases to the floor, had fine tuned your senses. You spotted movement before it even happened, keenly aware of your surroundings. As soon as Emmett darted from the desk, you had jumped atop it, pouncing on it with all of your weight and sending him sprawling to the floor. With the time it took for him to come to terms with his new laying-arrangement, you were straddled atop him, one knee pressing into his stomach, your foot above his crotch. The other leg was stretched out to keep your boot firmly atop his wrist, and his other free arm was held down by your own.</p><p>You looked straight into his horrified eyes as he squirmed, but his body had been fattened by wealth, leaving him practically strengthless unless he was sitting on somebody. His brown hair was receding and short, showing off his bright red, sweaty face in all its glory. The man was a poster boy for slimy, child exploiting degenerates. Tilting your head, giving him the full view of your face from the shadow of your hat, you slowly withdrew your free hand from within your coats folds, revealing the gleaming dagger hid within the fabric. Emmett whimpered as you brought it to the candlelight of the room, the blade gleaming ferociously as golden waves rippled from the silver.</p><p>"P-please," His voice wobbled as tears threatened at his enlarged eyes, giving the green and white a glassy affect. You felt no sympathy, only pressed the dagger to his neck, letting the hat cast shade over your brows once more.</p><p>"For the enslavement, torture, and possible hand in murder of Alyssen, Noah, Franchen, Milla, Hannah and countless others, Emmett Schneider, I sentence you to death," Letting the blade sink far enough into his neck for him to feel the white hot temper of the metal and gasp a squeal, you spoke coldly, with complete animosity towards the pathetic man. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he kicked your back with all the strength he could muster; The blows felt like the punches of a child with all of the blood pumping through your system. Your emotional height left you feeling practically nothing but triumph and adrenaline. No more would he hurt others.</p><p>"Tell me, Emmett Schneider," You cooed, bending down to his sickening face so that your lips nearly touched his ear. "Do you believe in god?"</p><p>The man seemed to stop breathing, his body starting to shake, though he no longer moved purposefully. When you pulled yourself up to look him in the eye, he had gone entirely white, his mouth parted and eyebrows creased as he stared into nothing. He had barely whimpered a 'No' before you launched yourself off his body with surprising agility, tilted his head and torso away from you, and plunged the dagger into his neck, ripping it through the flesh and muscle and splattering gushing blood on his clothes and carpet. Even in the split second of you no longer holding him down, he did not move, only let himself be pulled like a rag doll, ready for slaughter. Emmett gasped for breath at the impact of the blade, his hands reaching up to plug the streams of crimson pouring in great waves from the wound, but he was far too late. As you drew yourself up to your full height, he collapsed entirely, resting, twitching, on the ground, letting the pale carpet seep up his blood like a sponge.</p><p>It was done.</p><p>You had no intentions of admiring your handiwork, you did not get pleasure from looking at the dead. He was another name crossed off the list, another worthless life clenched out like the countless he took for his own gain. It sickened you.</p><p>Bending down, you wiped the blood from your dagger along the floor, cleaning it until it was sparkling once more, before making your way to the door. Normally, you'd scrape for books, ink, paper, but most of his belongings were drowned in red or not quite to your interests. You doubted an animalistic slaver had any decent literature.</p><p>Sighing, you pulled the door closed, contemplating. If the neighbours saw you breaking through the window, the military police would already be on their way, but you had seen no lights turn on throughout the whole ordeal.</p><p>Fuck it.</p><p>What's the harm in stealing from a dead guy?</p><hr/><p>Three armed military police- That was the harm in stealing from a dead guy.</p><p>Your lungs burned as you ran, a loaf of bred under one arm, a wrapped fruitcake under the other. Several eggs were scattered within your pockets and you hoped to god none of them broke, while your arms were full of sweets and a large, bagged leg of some sorts. Animal, of course, meat and produce didn't come cheap, neither did treats so of course you were going to swipe some. What you hadn't anticipated, however, was the neighbours being nosier than you thought. You had been trying to outsmart the police for a good ten minutes now, and it was only getting harder to keep your hat on and your body going despite your coats warmth.</p><p>It could possibly be easier to escape using your 3DM gear, but the mountains of food piled in your arms made that quite the task, one you'd avoid taking. So on foot you were, ducking through alleyways and behind carts to avoid the flying fuckers. God, this job sucked sometimes.</p><p>Finally, with sweat dripping down your face, and a horrible feeling that at least one egg had cracked right on your thigh, you seemed to have outran them, and only a block away from your escape hole. Tightening your heavy coat around the food, you crept along the dark sides of roads, ever weary of the approaching figure, the low hiss of a gas, or the thud of a grappling hook hitting stone. Nothing. It seemed like the longest walk you'd ever taken, inching around roads bit by bit, until you located your alley. You were lucky no one had either noticed or cared about the golden circled tiles scattered about the walls, but this was really pressing it. Gold, faded or not, would stick out like a red thumb to someone looking for something, it could practically scream 'Hiding hole!' to a trained eye. You just had to hope once more; It was no use in hiding in the city all night. Plus, you had to get the meat back to Isha and Leon before it went bad, and the cold of the tunnels would keep it fresh enough to last the trip.</p><p>Biting your lip, you shuffled down the gap, barely blinking so at to remain as quiet as possible until you stood by the circle. With bated breath, you ever so slowly drew you foot up and slid the stone out of place, cringing at the low scrape it emitted, so much louder in the silence as you placed the food in your arms in a dark spot beside the hole. You waited a moment for any sound, before gripping onto the bricks either side and swinging yourself down, letting your feet hang mid-air as you pulled yourself up so that you were propped up elbow to wrist.</p><p>With great care, you slid each product towards you, just close enough that you could grab it and throw it into the darkness below. Being fairly soft foods, they didn't made a great crash as they hit the floor, only a quiet thud that had you cringing every time. It didn't take too long, but it felt like forever that you were hanging there, feeling as though your arms were about to drop off any second. Finally, you twisted your body to tug the spare tile back into place, dropping so only your hands were holding on once more before you could give the final push. You had to make sure no one was around to hear the low clang of stone on stone, so you waited.</p><p>The coast seemed about clear, you were ready to lower yourself back down when a voice spoke, low, toneless. You couldn't quite make out the words, but by the slow approach you could tell they were walking.</p><p>Cursing, you pulled yourself up a little so that just your eyes were above the hole, staring into the darkness at the end of the alley. The shade of the buildings either side should mean that you were completely invisible to the naked eye, cast entirely in darkness, but either way you couldn't plug the hole just yet.</p><p>Your arms screamed as you clung on, nearly crying with the effort of it before two figures wandered into your vision, just a moment as they crossed past the alleyway. Two uniformed figures, but that wasn't the worst of it.</p><p>Instead of the bright green unicorn head sewn into the back of their brown jackets, was two, arching shapes of white and blue; The wings of freedom. The survey corps, the best of the best. You held in a gasp as you saw it, shining proudly on their shoulders and backs, when one froze.</p><p>Shit</p><p>He was a man- you could tell by the short black hair framing his eyes, and the buzzed down sides, though his companion was mostly in the dark. The one you could see, however, turned his head slowly into the alley, eyes narrowed, searching for something he could not quite reach.</p><p>You couldn't make out his face, only pale skin and narrowed, slate-grey eyes roaming the space in front of him, suspicion written clear across his face. You knew that face.</p><p>"What did you see?" A woman's voice, soft and mildly alarmed from beside him. God, you were slipping, but you couldn't let yourself fall. You had never been so tense in your life, so desperate to just go to sleep. The adrenaline that had coursed through you for so long had left you tired, emotionally and physically. His stare seemed to go on forever.</p><p>"Nothing, I just... never mind," He tore his gaze just as you feared your eyes were about to meet and you nearly sighed in relief as their footsteps started once more.</p><p>"I can't believe they put you on the job," Said the woman once more, their voiced floating away as they walking further from your spot, sounding annoyed if nothing else.</p><p>"Those useless bastards couldn't stomp on a dead rat," The man deadpanned. You strained your ears, hoping to catch just a hint of information you could use, just how close they were to finding you. "He's probably long gone by now anyhow, submit your report and turn in for the night."</p><p>The woman final words were muffled by distance, but you still picked up on them, crystal clear. It sent a horrible cold wave all through your body.</p><p>"Yes sir, Captain Levi."</p><p>You swung the tile closed so fast you didn't even register the movement, letting your body fall to the floor in a messy heap with a 'thump'.</p><p>Shit.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Yikes to you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>
    <span class="u">3 days ago</span>
  </b>
</p><p>Erwin's office had aways been fairly plain; dark floors, dark walls, dark ceiling. His desk sat on the other end of the room, scratched with age yet finely polished, glistening in the late afternoon sun streaming through the window behind it. The man often had the sheer curtains drawn at this time of the day, put off by the thick, unrelenting beams of night ricocheting off the glass, but they remained open now, brightening the otherwise ghostly room.</p><p>A great shelf lined the right side of the walls, lined thoroughly with books of every shade and colour, varying in length, while unlit candles were hammered into the cold stone at every corner. The office was almost creepy, too precisely bare to be human, but Erwin Smith wasn't about the aesthetic value of his surroundings, nor small pleasures and hobbies. Thats just how he was.</p><p>Levi Ackerman was fairly similar in his beliefs, preferring to stick himself to the basics of life rather than to coat his walls with reminiscence. Still, the darkness of the room unnerved the man. His only demand when upgraded to 'Captain's' status was a well lit room, something bright in the Scouts camp, while this was just uncomfortable.</p><p>He had been stood here, nearly stock still, for going on ten minutes, eyes dully drawing to the clock on his left every once in a while, waiting for his superiors arrival. The settling dust shimmering in the low, golden light pouring in was his only distraction from the slow seconds passing by and he clicked his tongue at the dirtiness of it. He respected Erwin Smith, possibly more than most, but as commanding officer of the Scout Regiment, he expected better.</p><p>The low clang of the door opening awoke Levi from his contemplations, turning his head to see the man himself emerge from the gap, looking somewhat sullen. His thick, golden brows were drawn even closer to his bright eyes than usual, and he surveyed the shorter man with a somewhat frustrated look as he shut the door behind him.</p><p>"How long have you been waiting," Erwin sighed in a low voice, hanging his uniformed coat on the railing beside his window. He took a quick look at the early summer light outside before drawing the sheer curtains, leaving the room in a dully glowing shadow.</p><p>"11 minutes," Levi hummed in response, crossing the room to stand opposite the desk. "Didn't realise they'd hold your old ass for so long."</p><p>Giving him a steely, somewhat amused glare, Erwin sighed and sat, resting his stock straight spine only slightly as the chair creaked with age. "That military lot have a lot of nerve."</p><p>"Tch," Levi scoffed, scowling at the thought of them. A mission had been planned and replanned for the past month, hoping to send the newest cadets of the Scouts out into the real world in a carefully controlled assessment of ability. A right of passage, if you will, and picking the right day for it, where titan activity would be low and rate of survival high was a pain in the backside at the best of times. The Military Police had decided to summon Erwin on that exact date with no exceptions to the importance of the trip, calling it a 'dire situation'. Training days were never fun, especially with the foul mood they put the higher ranking members in to have to observe how pitiful their newest recruits truly were, but they were important nonetheless. The entire legion had been less than impressed.</p><p>"They've demanded your presence," Erwin spoke with a grim, almost tired tone as he looked up his brows to the standing man.</p><p>Levi raised a careful brow, gazing at him with half lidded eyes, dripping with what looked like boredom. "Oh yeah, the titan problem in the capitol really gotten that bad?" He joked dryly.</p><p>Sighing, Erwin shuffled about in his bag for a set of papers, bringing the thick wad onto his desk with a soft thump. A boys face stared out from the front, messily drawn from eye witness sketches. He had a softer, younger look about his cheekbones and jawline, piercing (E/C) eyes and a scuffed bakers boy hat hiding his hair. Above the composition, the words <b><span class="u">'The Shadow Vigilante strikes again'</span></b> were underlined in striking bold. Erwin pushed the papers across the table, giving Levi the chance to read the attack written out in smaller print, his eyes scanning for a reaction as the younger man frowned dully, placing both hands on the desk to lean into the words.</p><p>
  <em>'In the early hours of yesterday morning, the man dubbed 'The Shadow Vigilante' shook terror within the confines of Wall Sheena once again. The victim, 46 year old military police member, Ryker Meyer, was found dead by friends after failing to attend his duties for the day, struck dead by a stab wound to the upper abdomen. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was later found that his 3D manoeuvre gear, relative only to the Military, was stolen during the ordeal by the killer, giving him a wider access to future victims and getaways. His brother, Norman Myer, had this to say about the brutal attack-'</em>
</p><p>"So he's a vigilante now?" Levi asked, having read enough of the article as he pushed it aside.</p><p>"It was dubbed by the public after the first few kills," Erwin removed the newspaper from the pile as he flipped through the remaining pages. "Turns out they were planned attacks, most of the previous victims were at least somewhat involved in a human trafficking ring. Course, they won't say that directly about a member of their own, I'm surprised they even mentioned it."</p><p>He paused a few moments, surveying the lower ranked man as his eyes flicked across the paper, frowning.  "The paper's from a week ago," Erwin added.</p><p>Clicking his tongue, Levi bent upwards from the desk, looking his superior in the eye as he spoke. "And I suppose the military police are that incompetent that they need me on the job?"</p><p>"You are humanity's strongest," Erwin joked dryly, clearly as frustrated by the demand as the captain. "They want you in the capitol by tomorrow for a debrief, they're expecting another strike in Sheena soon. Considering the supposed first attack was in Rose, the military reckon he's moved his sights completely to Stohess for the time being."</p><p>"Tch," Levi scoffed, pushing himself from the table and turning to take his leave. "Typical of them to only ask for help when one of their own got cut." He turned the handle on the door, opening it enough to allow for exit at the commander replied.</p><p>"Meyers has always been a corrupt bastard,"<em> Same as almost anybody in the police. </em>"Catch the killer and be quick about it, I'm not going forward with the training excursion without you around."</p><p>Of course the stupid brats needed him around to keep them in check. Huffing under his breath, Levi gave a subtle nod and exited with a short. "I'll leave tomorrow morning."</p><p>It seemed ridiculous, but it wasn't as though he expected any better of the people so used to sitting on their drunk asses day in and day out. He just hoped to get the job done quickly, he wasn't keen on spending any more time around the stupid fuckers than necessary.</p><p>He made his way back to his office and adjoining bedroom and made a start on gathering enough supplies for his ridiculous trip. They'd better not keep him waiting.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong>Present day</strong> </span>
</p><p>You had never awoken with such pains in your life. Your thighs and calves ached with a stiff ferocity, while your arms struggled to even brush over your eyes as the morning light crept through your window. It must have been midday by how the beams managed to blind you so quickly and you groaned, rolling over in bed to face the bare wall on your other side. For a moment, you wondered why your body was protesting so much to your minimal movements. One blissful moment.</p><p>Emmett, dead, Levi Ackerman.</p><p>"Fuck..." You whispered, slamming your palms into your eye sockets in an attempt to cleanse them of sleep. How had you managed to forget, even for a second, just how much shit you were in? The scout regiment lived in wall rose, you saw them leave Trost's gates for expeditions almost regularly. If you were spotted, even with your hat hiding your hair, you would be done for. Probably killed in some back alley and left to rot under a mouldy box.</p><p>But what was the other option? You had sworn to fulfil your duty, you made a promise. Even with 'humanities strongest' up against you, it wouldn't be fair to back down. You had a job, a role in this world and by god you were going to do it, even if you were fed to the rats for doing your goddamn best.</p><p>With protesting joints and a far higher level of anxiety than necessary first thing in the... afternoon, you pulled yourself out of bed, making your way to the small wardrobe across the room to fumble for some clothes. Upon getting home last night, you had merely ripped your coat and hat off before throwing yourself into bed, but your clothes were filthy now and you weren't going to make an appearance to the early afternoon regulars dressed as a terrible mimic of a sweaty boy.</p><p>Finding a shin length (F/C) skirt and a basic linen shirt to match, you grabbed the cold water bucket next to the wardrobe and peeled off your clothes, scrubbing your skin with an old cloth in the best impersonation of a bath you could have on a regular day. Water was a luxury; most days of the week were reserved to sponge washes. When your skin was as clean as you could get it, you shook your body dry, increasingly aware of the biting cold of the room, and pulled the fabric over your body, patting out any creases.</p><p>The space you were lucky enough to inhabit was less of a bedroom and more of a tiny attic, featuring the basic bed, wardrobe and cracked mirror- pretty good for this area of Trost, especially considering you had no real ways of making money. In return for a place to sleep and enough food to keep you going, you had struck a deal with Isha and Leon that you would work for them, using the job as means for payment to them. It was a massive understatement that you got a lot more out of the deal than them, but you were a good employee and they understood you better than anyone else, growing to be almost parental figures in the two years you had known them.</p><p>With a quick check of your reflection, you climbed the ladder to the second story of the Inn, and then down to the bottom, stomach aching for food and well aware of your upcoming shift. Part of your bargain with the couple was that you worked the time you had, always doing your best, but that no set schedule was given to you, allowing for your nightly activities. You, however, were not ready for the two of them to look so furiously anxious at you when you found your way to the bar.</p><p>"I'm awake," You yawned, resting your elbows atop the wood as you scanned the Inn, finding only a few of the usual regulars enjoying lunch together.</p><p>"You have a lot more to be worried about than sleeping in, young lady," Came Isha's concerned voice from beside you, her brilliant green eyes awake with shock. You had a bad feeling you knew why.</p><p>The couple weren't elderly by any means, both having had children fairly young and aged well. In their early forties, both were attractive for their age, though the lines that marked their eyes and foreheads were scriptures of their time in Shiganshina. They had inhabited a quiet space outside the district lines for their entire lives leading up to the destruction of wall Maria and had scraped together enough money to open the Inn in Trost only a year after their immigration. They had done extremely well together, but the loss of their easy, quiet life had plagued them for the past three years, even despite the comforts they had built since.</p><p>Feigning innocence, you forced a nervous cough, hurrying around the bar to fetch an apron to wrap around your waist. "If the meats gone bad, you can only blame the walk back from Stohess, it was a real bitc-"</p><p>"You have Captain Levi Ackerman on your trail!" Leon interrupted with a forced hiss, eyeing the customers as a spoke. "The paper came out this morning. Do you know how dangerous that is?"</p><p>"Ackerman deals with titans," You reasoned quickly, forcing the words out of your mouth as your face brightened, tying the cords of the apron around your back as you avoided eye contact with the older man. For some reason, despite having only known the couple for a very short time, you felt the guttural guilt of any wrongdoing you made against them, as though they really were your kin. "I can't imagine he'll find me any quicker than those idiots in the police."</p><p>It was a feeble act of self assurance and you all knew it.</p><p>Running his fingers through his greying blonde hair, Leon huffed, turning from you for a moment before muttering. "Maybe you should be taking a break from this shit while he's on the case..."</p><p>"No!" Your eyes widened, turning to finally face the two as your hands went numb. Startling a few customers, you lowered your voice drastically, gritting your teeth. "You know I can't do that."</p><p>Isha opened her mouth to protest, wrapping her fingers around her long plait nervously, but you continued before she could start. "If I stop and he gets bored with the inactivity, he'll start trying to track me down more personally. If he actually finds me living here-"</p><p>"We have the plan set in place in the case of an arrest," Leon reminded you as though you could forget what you had so meticulously thought up. You balled your fists until your fingernails tore at your palms in an attempt to remain calm.</p><p>"And that plan will work a lot better if I'm not arrested here, you know that," the pain in your hands shocked you out of your blind, needless anger. God, you were probably tired and angsty, but their proposal shocked you to the core. Your words seemed to have had an affect on them though, for their posture slackened with your words. The plan in question was a feeble one at best, but their only chance of not going down with you if you were caught. Feigning ignorance was always the best way to go with the police, especially considering how fuck-off drunk they tended to be. It was a necessary evil for them to abandon you should the time come.</p><p>"Im careful," You eventually said, voice softening as you fiddled with a loose thread of your apron. "But you know I can't stop. Putting myself first, even with Ackerman on my trail, isn't an option."</p><p>The two shared a tired look of defeat. They understood your reasoning, they had since they found you; bloody, sick and alone, on the verge of death. If anything, they were nearly as passionate about your cause as you were, letting you use yourself as a conduit for their own desires against the men on your list. </p><p>"Just..." Isha's brilliant eyes bored into your own, gazing at you with such maternal care that you were lost in the beauty of them. She pursed her lips, frowning ever so slightly. "Just be careful, please."</p><p>She placed a hand over your bicep, squeezing gently, the closest the two of you ever came to a hug. It wasn't that you didn't want to be so close to another, but that gentle touches were their love language. You had noticed her and Leon do the same with their sons, Tommen and Klaus, and the first time you felt the interaction yourself, you had to force yourself not to cry. Even now, with the warmth of her hand spilling over your skin, you had to hold back tears. "You know I will," You gave her a sincere half smile. "Now come on, the customers aren't going to wait all day. You know I'm their favourite."</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Leon chuckled slightly as Isha detached her grip, giving you one last pointed look before making her way to the kitchen to help Klaus. Their combined culinary skills often had you wondering how they hadn't made their way to serving the king directly, with just the thought of her food making your mouth water. Noticing, Leon began to make his way around the bar, grabbing a tray of drinks on his way. "I'll cover these lot for the moment, go get a snack."</p><p>Grinning, you gave him a quick, cheeky salute and jogged back upstairs to their living space. The Inns kitchens were for customer food preparation, while the family's personal floor had the simpler, quicker food for you to gnaw on during your breaks. It wasn't a big area, with the stairs leading to a much smaller kitchen and dining room, and two doors leading to the couples and their sons rooms. The walls were the same cobbled grey stone as the ground level, but it was a far more comforting space than downstairs. Stomach grumbling, you went directly to the counter at the far end and located the bread box where your bountiful founding from last night waited patiently for you. The family had already started on the loaf, most likely too hungry to wait for you to join them in the morning, but two sliced were pre-cut for you and your tore into them hungrily, savouring the taste of fresh, expensive bread.</p><p>"It's like you've never been fed," Came a cheeky tone you knew belonged to Tommen and you whipped around with a start. Tommen was a well built man in his early twenties, the youngest of the two brothers, who had taken on his fathers golden hair, which gathered in shining layers from just past his chin. His mother would beg him to cut it short, but he enjoyed being the eye candy of the local girls too much to do so, usually just dying it back into a messy bun when working. His shoulders were broad and filled out his worn shirt, his bulky frame giving him a rougher look, but you knew him to be one of the goofiest idiots you knew, often putting on an overtly masculine pretence to woo the ladies. You shot him a sarcastic glare as you ripped into the bread. </p><p>"Phuck yew," You spluttered, mouth full, a few crumbs falling onto your apron as you spoke. Tommen crinkled his nose.</p><p>"Slacking off the job, stealing our food... I don't know why mum and dad still keep you," He tipped his nose slightly upwards, though his blue eyes glinted mischievously as he walked over to you. </p><p>"I brought you the damn bread," You huffed, trying to keep a smile off your face as you swallowed your mouthful. "And I'm not a dog, I keep myself."</p><p>Grinning, the taller boy ruffled your hair and leaned over you to break a chunk off the loaf, popping it in his mouth. "Sure you aren't, twat-bag," He said affectionately, turning around to make the trip back down to the main floor. "Now hurry your slow ass up, them lot aren't gonna serve themselves."</p><p>He paused halfway down the steps, turning his head slightly so that you could see the peaking of a smile from his side profile. "And if you <em>really</em> cared, you'd bring us the capitol alcohol back from your trips."</p><p>"You live in a bar, you dimwit," You laughed, rolling your eyes as you finished your slices of bread, hastily stuffing them in your mouth. He said nothing else, just chuckled as he disappeared from view, and you wiped your hands a few times across your skirt to rid them of crumbs before joining him, readying yourself for a day of work.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Loyalist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The days drew on when you were working at the Inn, much longer than you would prefer. While your mind stayed busy planning your next course of action, you navigated the familiar space, sending smiles and trays of food and drink to the people around you. Working alongside Tommen and Leon out front was enjoyable, always giving you something to laugh about, and the locals were nice enough, but you were entirely caught up on your mission now.</p><p>You had scheduled your next attack to be as soon as possible after Emmett, the two men knowing each other well, and you understood he would be wary after the death of a close business partner. Finishing him off quickly would mean possibly avoiding any precautions he would have to time to put in place, but with Captain Levi Ackerman on your trail, you had to be extremely careful. Getting this right was paramount to the continuation of your job, a necessity you couldn't afford to be laid back about. If Benjamin Pollent wasn't dead in a week, you would have to scratch his name entirely off the list for god knows how long and you weren't prepared to do that. </p><p>Pollent was one of the most important people on your list, primarily because he was a ringleader of the trade, sending people to their inevitable deaths on the daily and making money from it. You also had a more personal vendetta against him, simply because he was an utter and absolute dick who could burn in hell for all you cared. His grinning face danced loops in your mind for days on end and you were keen to put an end to it.</p><p>"Hey (Y/N)! You alright over there?"</p><p>You looked out over the tables from where you had been scrubbing glasses in the sink in surprise, only now noticing how hard you had been slamming the clean cups on the bar, your lips pursed angrily. Forcing the agitates expression off your face and allowing your skin to melt into a softer expressing, you gave a breezy smile to the man who had gained your attention.</p><p>You only knew his name was Eric Gratter because he was in the pub most days of the week, usually quite happy to be alone. He lived in a much nicer area of Trost but, for some reason, frequented Leon and Isha's business every evening, preferring the atmosphere to the snootier places up north. He also gave amazing tips, so you always did your best to chat with him in your spare time.</p><p>He gave you an easy grin, raising an empty beer glass and you rolled your eyes playfully, bringing a clean one from beside you and taking it to the tap to refill with the golden liquid. It fizzed and bubbled into a frothy mess as you worked, scraping the rising white bubbles off the top with a card before carefully carrying it over to him.</p><p>Eric was a fairly wealthy older man, probably well into his 40s, with a daughter similar to your own age who sometimes joined him for his late meals, though he was alone today. His brown hair was speckled with grey and patchy, while he sported rough salt and pepper beard that crinkled when he smiled. </p><p>"Long day?" He questioned, rising a brow as you plopped the drink onto the desk and grabbed his empty one. Shifting your weight onto your hip, you grinned, blowing a stand of hair from over your eye.</p><p>"Same as any other, just got my head in the clouds," You said nonchalantly, placing your free hand over your hip. The Inn would be shutting soon, but Eric would usually stay until the last of the nights customers had dispersed, chatting with Leon as he cleaned the bar down.</p><p>"Ahh of course," Eric brought the drink up and took a swig, wiping the foam from his top lip. The way he spoke to you often gave the impression that he knew something that no one else did, and graciously waved it over their heads in the most polite manner possible. His eyes would twinkle slightly and it threw you off massively, especially when you had just been pondering how to kill a man. "Say, I haven't head you playing at all recently. You still write music?" He hummed, switching the topic for which you were grateful.</p><p>"Oh-" The question shocked you slightly, though it was fair. Since joining the Inn, you had often played on the odd Friday or Saturday. With Tommen and Klaus being young musicians themselves, their parents had worked up the money to add a guitar to the establishment, letting them play for the customers. Upon learning you enjoyed the art as-well, you began to join them, writing your own music in your free time and performing on the odd occasion.</p><p>There was always some mystery around the old yet lovely piano that now sat in the corner, for Leon and Isha hadn't brought it themselves. It had been merely left around the corner of the shop one spring afternoon, perfect if not for a few scratches here and there. You had a sneaking suspicion on who left it, however, for it had arrived days after your first live performance, when you had told Eric that you preferred to play the piano. You made an effort to play when he was around after that.</p><p>"Well I had one in mind, I'm just not sure on the piece as a whole," You said honestly. The song in question had been plaguing you up until Emmett's death, after which you had been too preoccupied to ponder it.</p><p>Erics eyes crinkled as he smiled at you. The man had always loved the beauty of music, perhaps another reason he frequented a bar on the other side of the city. "Well, you know I'd always love to hear ya. Tommen and Klaus are alright but god those boys are angry players."</p><p>You coughed a laugh, eyes shooting over to Tommen, who was leaned over a table attempting to chat up a slightly older lady who's boyfriend you'd seen leave for the bathroom only moments prior. The brothers had a habit of beating their instruments to near death when they performed; a great vibe for a lively, Friday night crowd, but almost laughable with how red their faces got. </p><p>Turning your head back to Eric, his eyebrow poised pointedly with a hint of cheek, your lips pursed into a smile. "I'll see what I can do," Smiling, you brought the empty glass back to the bar where Leon was organising some bottles. He turned at your approach as you placed the glass in the sink and jerked a thumb in the direction of the piano. "You alright if I...?" You let the question trail into the air as he smiled.</p><p>"Go ahead," He replied warmly, moving to the sink to start cleaning. "Its been a couple days, should get the customers a bit happier."</p><p>Grinning, you gave a thumbs up to Eric, who cracked a wider smile and leaned forward in his chair. The Inn was fairly lively for the night, mostly filled to the brim with regulars thankful for the coming weekend; the perfect crowd.</p><p>You weren't often faced with stage-fright, having left any traces of public shame or shyness back when you regained your freedom. That being said, you were no opera singer, your vocal abilities didn't stretch far, but musicians were very far and few between and most people rarely heard any in their day to day lives. Most were appreciative of anything, having no great preference or understanding of good and bad. It made your job a lot easier. </p><p>Clearing your throat and humming a few quiet notes, you tucked the chair out from under the piano and sat down, flattening your skirt as you hovered your toes over the gleaming pedals below.</p><p>You didn't need an introduction, anyone who wanted to listen would do so. You let your fingers skim over a few of the keys to find their place and you felt them melt into position, acquiring a mind of their own as the trickled over white and black to form a melody of sorts. The voices dulled around you as you played, letting the distant sounds in and letting them face away with your voice.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'I had the most vivid dream, my feet left the ground. I was floating to heaven but I could only look down'</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'Oh God I'm so tired of being afraid.'</b>
  </em>
</p><p>The words fell from your lips effortlessly, your eyes remaining on the softly twinkling keys below. The sound rung out in the space around you, though you payed no attention to the people, letting your mind float away with the music.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'What would it feel like to put this baggage down?'</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'I want to take shelter but I'm ready to fight. Somewhere in the middle I feel a little paralysed.'</b>
  </em>
</p><p>The song held no true meaning you knew of, just another story you had contemplated. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, a broken girl spoke the words into your mind and brought them to life, beaming out strongly against what you fought to keep down.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'Maybe I'm stronger than I realise.'</b>
  </em>
</p><p>You pushed it aside, learning from her mistakes, the mistakes of those around her. You let her grow within you, her bruises and cracks filling out into a woman. She sung through your mouth, gaining strength and belief with every word.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'I want to believe, no I choose to believe that I was to become a sanctuary.'</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'Fear won't go away, but I can keep it at bay. These invisible walls just might keep us safe.'</b>
  </em>
</p><p>Her voice towered, singing a story she wouldn't truly tell of every person she had loved, everything she wanted to change.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'Is it courage or faith to show up every day? To trust that there will be light.'</b>
  </em>
</p><p>The keys rung out, getting gentler and gentler as the song ebbed out, filled only by your voice and the now soft melody. You let a smile grace your lips as it concluded, similar in tone to the beginning of the song, yet filled with so much change.</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>'And no matter what</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>Somehow we'll be okay.'</b>
  </em>
</p><p>Your mind came out of its trance at the last note and you looked out to see that most of the Inn had turned in their seats to face you, beaming soft smiles and teary eyes. Your lips pulled wider as you gave a little bow of your head and scampered from the stool, heading straight to Eric, the widest smile of them all. Klaus and Isha had peaked their heads from the kitchen doors, the former giving you a wink, while Tommen stood at the other end of the room, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. Even despite his sarcastic nature, he gave you a lopsided grin and a thumbs up, to which you rolled your eyes. </p><p>It seemed that, even despite your caught up mind and nightly activities, you could find happiness in normality.</p><hr/><p>A short chapter in preparation for a long one that I am currently editing, publishing tonight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello!</p><p>I understand this all seems a bit slow-paced, but I wanted to show the readers normal life as well  as present what I can of their development and history through the song choice. I know its a little cliche, but the songs I have them sing throughout the book show their character well and I thought it was a nice touch :)</p><p>Also I don't expect the readers voice to be on some Ariana Grande levels, just kind of normal. I don't thing the people of wall rose would hear music often so would be happy with anything.</p><p>The chosen song is a condensed form of 'Six' from the album 'Enneagram' by Sleeping At Last- a massive recommendation as a whole from yours truly, his music is incredible</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. No Time Like The Present</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Good things, however, could only last for so long. Despite days of honest, grovelling work at the Inn, sarcastically knocking Tommen and Klaus, and doing your upmost to strategically lay out your options in the coming days, you could prolong your next adventure no longer. For some reason, despite the careful and meticulous planning you undergone in order for your mission to be as quick and effective as possible (Far more than you had ever usually did), nerves still wracked your stomach as you said a murmured farewell to the family, doing your absolute best to ignore their concerned, sickly faces. Your winning trophies of meat, bread and sweets had been a nice touch to regaining their favour after the <em>somewhat </em>problematic news of the most feared titan-slaying solider being on your case, but they had still done everything in their guilt tripping power to keep you home, <em>'at least for another week, until it's all cleared over'.</em></p><p>
  <em>'Do you know how worrying it is to Isha whenever you leave?'</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'And what are we to do if you die out there?'</em>
</p><p>And finally, on your chosen day of leaving, <em>'We're planning a lovely family dinner, won't you join us?' </em>Family being the key word there.</p><p>It wasn't as though they were frugal in their association with you as a member of their circle, more-so that they knew it would strike an underserving pang in your chest. Family.</p><p>God, even just the word itself had you clenching your teeth as you paced down the busy cobbled streets, head bent down as you swerved past the early evening townspeople. Family. It curved around your mind into a great, unbreakable tree with branches that burst with bright flowers and berries that flowed from the lowest hanging twigs to the very tips of the oak.</p><p>The few memories of your own blood relatives had been buried deep within you years ago, as they had been to every boy and girl deposited into your unfortunate childhood position. For the first few weeks, you went to sleep sobbing, crying out for your mother and father, hoping beyond hope that they would find you weeping there, scoop you into their loving embrace and whisk you far back home. After those longings died out, replaced by sombre understanding, you instead attempted to viciously carve their faces into memory, going over every detail of their physique as you lay in bed at night, or dutifully scrubbed polished floors until your small fingers went numb. In moments of quiet, you let your brain soar, projecting their voices as loud around your skull as your memory could retain.</p><p>It normally took a year for the children forced into the corrupt labour system to accept their harsh dealing, where the memories of a blissful life became too painful to withstand. By then, they pushed all recollections aside, focusing their efforts only on the task at hand. Hope is a fickle thing, especially when one is shoved and beaten into a corner, weakened and malnourished to a point of near non-existence. In attempt to accept that painful life, slackened in shades of grey, you and every other person in your position battered away that hope, those whispers of love, reassurance, family.</p><p>The first whip to lick the soft skin of ones back is the harshest, the most piercing, but the muscle retains memory and everyone becomes number to the cruelties of life with time.</p><p>Were your family even still alive?</p><p>No, no way, you were not going back to that place. You hadn't given that life a second thought after Isha and Leon, after spending countless months, free in the darkened tunnels underground, trying to will your thoughts back into submission after years of holding them back. By then, your parents faces had become mere blurs, holding only the faint glimmer of a laugh, or the way their tongue rolled effortlessly, smile on the lips, as they said your name.</p><p>Instead, upon hearing of the destruction of Wall Maria, you decided to believe the worst possible scenario. That, despite retaining no knowledge of your childhood home or your family's state of affairs, they had lived and died in Shiganshina, tragically perishing at the hand of a titan, or a thick boulder flung into the property.</p><p>It was far easier that way, anyway, to mindlessly decide the fate of your kin.</p><p>Your dwelling thoughts of guilt and painful recollection kept the journey long, guiding yourself with a subtly flickering candle, though the tunnels seemed far darker than usual. The golden glow of your wick normally helped keep your mind intact, less wary of the pressing pit of dusty black around you, but it only seemed to fuel the shadows echoing off the ancient walls. The plaguing thoughts kept the sheen of sweat over your skin cool, your hands clammy, and your eyes darting. The possibilities of what could have been lurking kept your adrenaline pumping, ever weary of what exactly could be creeping in those shadows. </p><p>Animal bones and old trash was what, but you had a creative mind that had decided to keep you busy by imagining, in greatly vivid detail, your demise at every impossible monsters hand. Charming. If you ever finished your list and quit your job as bar maid, at least you knew you had a promising career of terrifying children as a horror novelist. You would have thought your mind to be twisted enough as it was, but it kept shocking you in new and interesting ways every time.</p><p>Thankfully, you were gifted with the fact that you had to walk no further than Stohess once again, the closest city to the East of Trost, and not even particularly far from your last victim. Benjamin Pollent was the far wealthier acquaintance of Emmett Schneider, dealing solely in operating the brutalities of sending people off to their doom. You had met him only three times, though the final solidified his painful death at your hands into your mind. The first was when he scrutinised you upon your arrival to his ring, picking his long white teeth with a wooden pick as he rattled out every problem with your young appearance before allocating you a household with your partner, Alden Baxter. Alden remains a story for another time, however.</p><p>The second was after you had been sold back upon reaching the ripe age of ten, too old to be eye candy for the slobbering perverts of the estate. Albeit, the men had never touched you, knowing you to have had been sold purely as house staff, but you were glad to be rid of the freaks.</p><p>Benjamin Pollent remembered every face he crossed to the last detail and that didn't escape you as well. Once more, with a pick between his teeth, he dolled you up in the oldest, fanciest dress the ring could offer and found a new buyer.</p><p>Then last, upon similar situations. The third and last time you ever had to see his sickening face again. Even after your first two encounters, this one struck you the hardest for, beside your partner in crime, Alden, you were sold into marriage, separated as far as possible from your only friend upon finding your new home. Given a title far crueler than ever before; the deepest form of property going.</p><p>Your short marriage was, however unfortunately, a story for another time.</p><p>Your ever gracious husband would wait until the last possible moment, after witnessing the crumbling of the entire system he had used to profit himself. You liked to imagine him backed into the furthest possible corner, devoid of friends or alliances to defend himself with, waiting for the return of the woman who brought the whole system crumbling down.</p><p>So, for today, you would kill Benjamin Pollent.</p><p>Finally, long awaited, the time had come. Metal grates slipped, allowing you the opportunity to slide out of the deafening caverns and into the last slips of daylight, your own ritual. Just like with Emmett Schneider and every man before him, you were met with dying warmth on your cold skin, the sounds of families heading in for the night, children laughing tauntingly as their mothers tried to hush them away to bed. The picture almost had you smiling as you ducked away past them, the shadow of your bakers hat hiding your hair and eyes from view. You held no hatred to the families of higher status, despite the simple privilege bestowed upon them merely for existing. If anything, seeing upper class children have fun brought a warmth to your chest, seeing possibly the happiest youths in all the three walls and the lands beyond. They deserved no more or less than any other child, man or woman beyond Wall Sina, but all three gods be damned if they shouldn't get to cherish their easy life. After all, innocents should not bear the weight of sins of their predecessors.</p><p>Benjamin Pollent was one of the wealthier members of Stohess, though to call him within the richest circle was a long shot. Despite the city being somewhat small, there was a great wealth divide between the lowest and highest, though neither struggled for food or comfortable living to any length. His own home though, next to Emmett Schneider, was closer to a castle in size. In comparison to the rather luxurious, three story semi detach, Benjamin's home was possibly three times the length and four times the height of Isha and Leons Inn. It was painted a stark white in contrast to the cool pinkish-oranges of the bricks lining the structures either side, and every flower bed was decorated in bright red and gold petals, swimming gracefully in the early evening breeze.</p><p>With the stolen 3D Manoeuvre Gear strapped to your hips, the leather straps circling your body, albeit a little loose, you crept along the length of the street, keeping wary eyes out to the passers by as you rounded the corner. A thin alleyway marked the line between the houses on the right side of the street that Benjamins house faced and those behind it, giving you an ease access to the backside of the building without any onlookers. Spotting nobody marking the sidewalk or peering at you from between their curtains, you ducked within, counting the houses along as you walked.</p><p>You had been too hasty in your approach, arriving in Stohess with the sun still fairly high in the sky, not yet even casting shade from beyond the wall. A mistake on your part, being that you preferred the cover of darkness, though, you wondered, perhaps it would give the papers an opportunity to stop calling you that ridiculous name.</p><p>The Shadow Vigilante.</p><p>God, it made you sound like a villain from a children's book, the badly written kind that stalks around like a cat on its hind legs. Anything to be rid of that image, you supposed.</p><p>But, alas, nothing could be done of your poor timing. Sticking to the streets would only make your job of staying out of sight more difficult; it was easier to get the job done and bounce, especially with the Military Police and Scout Regiment on your tail.</p><p>Upon finding the backend of Benjamins home, you took the time to survey either side of the property , checking the ground level for occupants, before choosing the right, minuscule alleyway between his house and the one beside it. Still close enough to the shadows, and with nobody on the street opposite, you went to work. Houses like these never had windows on the sides or back of the house, being too close to other builds to be able to let any light in and only bearing the ugly bricks of next door. </p><p>There was, however, always a backdoor. </p><p>Benjamins, in particular, was painted a thick, blood red, and you didn't need to test the handle to know it was locked tight. Simple, though the colour made you feel a little queasy, bringing your own blood to a low boil to know he had decorated his home in the shades of his own many victims. Perhaps it was hypocritical of you to judge, but nonetheless judge you did.</p><p>One of the benefits of moving in with the Krüger family was that they had been in extreme poverty for a time, between houses. Upon immigration to wall rose, they had to become sneaky to get themselves enough food to bring them along to journey to buying the eventual Inn. That was where Tommen and Klaus came in. Without the moral integrity of their parents, they had no troubles in breaking into the richer side of Trost, conscience cleared in that the bastards had enough money to not notice the odd loaf of bread missing, and they had graciously bestowed the talent of lock picking to you.</p><p>Slipping a two thin pieces of metal from the breast pocket of your coat, homemade by Tommen himself, you got to work, slipping them through the golden lock and slowly fitting them into place, cautious of any possible noise as you did so. It took an agonisingly slow amount of time with how careful you were not to disturb Benjamin himself, but eventually it gave you the subtle click of entry. You usually preferred the loud, in your face approach, bursting through a window being more for the shock than for effectivity, but this worked just as well.</p><p>Sneaking the tools back into your pocket, you edged your hands to the handle, feeling smooth brass beneath your clammy fingers, and pried it open just enough to slide your body through.</p><p>The door opened to a large kitchen, equipped bountifully with pots and pans of every size and, in the middle on a metal island, a thick wad of sizzling meat, slowly revolving upon a spit.</p><p>In your efforts for a quiet approach, you hadn't even noticed the noise nor person turning the rump. The horror of discovering his presence, a boy probably no older than yourself, had you your boots stuck to the floor, eyes widening at your stupidity.</p><p>He stood only slightly taller than you, with thin, pale skin and hair cut nearly to the scalp, highlighting a few shallow cuts in the flesh above his skull, no doubt from the hasty, possibly punishing trim. His arm stopped turning immediately, reflecting your own shocked expression with glossy blue eyes as his jaw slackened. You recognised his position in the house almost instantly.</p><p>Without haste, you raised your arm to put a finger to your lips, doing your best to wordlessly keep him quiet, but the movement only terrified him further, and a metal pan you hadn't noticed in his grip fell to the floor with an ear splitting clang as he wobbled backwards.</p><p>It echoed around the room, filled only before with the low sizzling of the meat he had been painstakingly cooking. In a second, you had darted across the kitchen, latching one arm around his thin frame to propel yourself behind him and slapping another over his mouth. Four years ago, at the lowest of your malnutrition, your bony figure would have been incapacitated by his own, merely on the grounds that women were given weaker tasks, but with the little muscle you had grown since your escape, you could keep his violently squirming body still.</p><p>During the outburst, as you struggled with the taller, wiry boy, a voice, thick and slurred, echoed from somewhere upstairs with nothing but brutality. "Shut the fuck up down there, boy, or I'll make you!"</p><p>The threat made him even more terrified, wracking his body to and fro in an attempt to escape from you and tell Benjamin that it was not his fault in the slightest and that there was a serial killer in the kitchen.</p><p>"I'm here to help," You hissed in his ear, doing your best to keep his movements in check while still ever cautious of the warning man upstairs. This had to be quick, you'd somewhat lost the element of surprise. The boy slackened slightly at the sound of your voice, most likely confused at its femininity despite your appearance, and you took the opportunity to whisper as much information as you could.</p><p>"I was in your position - <em>listen to me</em> - I'm here to help. I'm trying to stop this shit!" You were interrupted by a particularly loud 'MMPH' from behind your hand and you tightened your strained grip in warning, gritting your teeth. "If I let you go, you have to promise me you won't make any noise. I swear to you I'm not here to hurt you."</p><p>The boy debated your statement for a second, fingers taking a break from clawing at your arms, before dutifully nodding, pressing himself against the counter opposite as soon as your grip slackened. Despite the hasty escape, however, he stuck by his promise not to alert Benjamin, possibly for fear of being beaten for allowing somebody to get into the house, but you appreciated it nonetheless.</p><p>Keeping his voice to a strained whisper, he stared at you with a quivering lip, blue eyes still wide open. "I know you!" He said shakily, pointing a wobbling finger towards your frame. "You-you're the shadow-"</p><p>"Yes, yes, I know the name," You snapped, cheeks burning bright red. Tommen and Klaus had bullied you in every way possible as soon as the nickname caught the tabloids, finding great joy in the stupidity of it. </p><p>"B-but," He gave you a steady look, up and down, taking in your whole raggedy appearance. "You're a girl."</p><p>You adjusted the hat slightly, suddenly uncomfortable in your heavy, manly garments. "Yes."</p><p>The boy seemed to understand at this, noticing your hardened eyes, your rigid posture, and his face melted from confused shock to comprehension in seconds. "You said you were in my position." Body slackening in seconds, the realisation seemed to calm him more than anything you had said during his enclosure in your arms. "You're- You were a slave!?"</p><p>You didn't need to say anything, only nodded at the accusation, still weary of him calling up to his 'master', handing you over for a sweet of appraisal, and being the sole reason you got carted either straight into prison or back to where he was standing.</p><p>Something changed in his eyes, brows drawing closer together, still cautious that you could be lying. "Prove it," He challenged, still shaky in his voice, and you bit your lip.</p><p>It wasn't a moment that you were particularly fond of, no one was, but it was a telltale mark of your position in society. The cattle.</p><p>Clenching your jaw, seeing no way of gaining the boys trust without granting his wishes, you pulled up your left arm and, with the other, rolled the sleeve up to the elbow. His narrowed eyes scanned the bare flesh for a moment before finding their trophy. </p><p>Etched cruelly into the skin of your forearm, just below the crease of your elbow, was the sigil. A small, curved diamond marked the centre, encircled perfectly to the very edges of the shape; Walls Sheena and Rose. It was followed by a larger circle to mark Maria, and lined with a great, upside down triangle, encompassing the picture of all three walls with the Slavery Union. The mark had been finalised by a long line passing from about a fingers width from the top of the triangle, to the bottom circle, dragging through to reach the centre of your forearm and slashed with two, small horizontal lines. He pulled his own sleeve back to show the same, similar in age.</p><p>The only difference between his and yours was that you had added a newer, fresher line atop the largest shape, etched straight through the middle. After all, you weren't ashamed of the branding, more so proud of how you had managed to gain it and escape, but you were keen to change it accordingly, slashing it out as though it crossed away the painful story's of those years.</p><p>Still, the idea of somebody scrutinising it and recognising you solely based off the cursed mark made you sick and had your cheeks burning, disgusted at the concept of trading scars in such a disgraceful form. But it satisfied the boy enough that he nodded and tore his eyes from your arm, giving you the opportunity to hide it once more.</p><p>He was the first to speak.</p><p>"So you're the one killing the bastards?" His voice no longer held the shakiness it had before, but instead a sort of confidence, as though talking to an ally. You took it as meaning you had gained his trust, curtly nodding in response.</p><p>His lips twitched slightly into a smile, halfway snide and halfway hopeful. You sadly contemplated what exactly had been done to him to give him such a sore expression. "And you're gonna go and kill that one next?"</p><p>He jammed a thumb upwards, signifying the man presumably upstairs with the same sneer, growing wider into something more genuine upon your second nod.</p><p>The boy bit his lip for a second, contemplating as you held your breath, ever wary with your adrenaline running higher than ever. After what seemed like an eternity, he extended a scarred hand. "Then I never saw you."</p><p>You looked at the offering of peace suspiciously for a second, before readjusting your sliding hat, tucking a stray hair beneath its fabric and gripping his hand with your own, giving it a firm shake. "Augustus," He declared himself, giving you the slightest of bows, tipping his head forward the tiniest bit to show his respect. Smiling, you gave his digits a final squeeze before removing your hand. </p><p>"I hope you won't be offended if I don't give you my name, grown very fond of the lovely one the tabloids gave me."</p><p>Augustus cracked the first truly genuine smile you had seen so far, something that stretched at his mouth in such a way that you wondered if he'd used the muscles in a very long time. Still though, it warmed your heart. "I don't blame you, it's pretty hot."</p><p>Biting back a laugh, you tipped your hat at him, backing towards the door from the kitchen into the unknown of the house. Stopping at the entrance, watching as he seemed to have returned to his own thoughts, staring at the steadily blackening slab of meat still burning, you gave him your final words of wisdom.</p><p>"When I go upstairs," You said wearily, shooting him the full sincerity of your eyes as he turned to face you once more. "You're got to run as fast and far as you can. Get help, send the police here if you need to prove it, just make sure you're safe. Tell the fucking world about them."</p><p>His eyes lit up, possibly only now truly aware that, from this moment, he could be given his freedom entirely, not merely re-sold to another bidder. Just as you moved to go back through the door, smiling at the prospect of his leaving, he piped up, face falling. </p><p>"There's another girl in the house, I've got to get her out too."</p><p>It wasn't an impossibility, especially considering you had already run into Augustus, but only two slaves was an anomaly in the men who liked to buy. "Just the one?" You questioned, turning only enough to see him from the corner of your eye. He nodded firmly, a look of determined concern painted across his features. As quickly as you could, you formulated a plan in your mind.</p><p>"I'll take care of it. If I time things perfectly, I can be out right as they arrive. I'll keep her safe until then." You were far from sure on the subject of your own safety with that plan, but gods be damned if you didn't get another kid out. Wasn't that your job? "Make sure they get here in ten minutes time, exactly, theres a station of MPs around the block from here."</p><p>"What about you?"</p><p>You weren't expecting that question, such untamed concern about your person in the face of freedom. It struck a cord in you that you didn't know was there, warming your chest from your heart outwards. </p><p>"I'll be fine, focus on yourself and remember, no more or less than ten minutes, got it?"</p><p>"Got it."</p><p>You heard the swing of the door as he made his escape, though you didn't have time to watch him go. You didn't have much time at all. This had to be done as soon as physically possible, especially given the mental alarm clock ticking by in your mind. Seven minutes to the stationed guards at a run, three minutes for them to navigate their way here with the use of 3D Manoeuvre Gear. Grimly gritting your teeth, you shoved the door open and stepped into the hallway</p><p>Let's get this show on the road.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Keeps The Mind Cold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I just wanted to take a second to say a massive thank you to everyone who's left kudos and comments so far on this book. Im having so much fun writing it and would really appreciate any feedback to help me improve as a whole :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Benjamin Pollent was possibly one of the richest people you had ever targeted and, therefore, it was a mission in itself simply navigating around his house. The time ticked on in your head, ten minutes to get the job done and bounce. Any later than that and you would be found, probably jailed, possibly killed on the spot. You weren't overly protective of your own life with all things considered, but you would be damned if you got yourself thrown into the backend of the river to Shiganshina with a full list of people still at large.</p><p>The polished dark oak floors were sensitive to the tiniest noise, footfalls ricocheting about the hallways and empty rooms as you attempted to move as quickly and silently as possible. Creeping about, sticking to the few shadows in case of the man's sudden appearance. Your thick-soled leather boots muffled your steps, but you still tiptoed, walking with the ball of your foot first before slowly moving to your heel and keeping the centre of your balance low as you shifted your weight. Even the erratic thumps of your heartbeat had you cringing in the silence as you searched for the stairs.</p><p>The ground floor had a total of three lounges and one gentleman's room from what you had found during your scavenge so far, with an eery locked door you suspected led to a basement. By the time you had made your way to the front door and found two, arching sets of stairs on either side of the foyer, at least three minutes had past and a cold sickness had embedded its way into your throat. You were so on edge you couldn't even find it in yourself to sweat with the anxiety, your entire body strangely cold and shaky. Your hands twitched at your side, dagger caught between your fingers as you approached the staircase and tested your foot on the first block. Silent.</p><p>A breath released from your chest that you didn't know you had been holding and, grasping the bannister to support the brunt of your weight in your free hand, you took another step. The wooden railings supported most of your body as you kept as close to the rim of the case as possible, aware that it was more stable and likely less prone to squeaking than the centre. The floor was the same deep oak as the rest of the house, polished beyond perfection so that the candlelight and evening sun shining through the windows gleamed off the wood. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, supported by a rope that ran the length of the room to a lever where you assumed you could lower the great crystals to the ground to light the wicks set into the silver. The walls around you had been painted a soft, elegant blue, highlighting his riches even more-so in that he could afford to paint the entirety of such a grand room, while a brave white carpet ran through the centre of the hallway below you. You wondered how difficult it was to clean, the painstaking scratches, bruises, and welts his 'slaves' had to undertake to scrub it until it was snowy. You averted your eyes back to your feet.</p><p>By the time you had crept up to the balcony looking down on the foyer, at least five minutes had passed since Augustus' leave, giving you next to no time to finish the job and get the fuck out of Ehrmich; an unlikely feat, but one you would take in your stride. A subtle voice caught your attention from the right, a door just slightly opened at the end of the balcony. It was soft and sweet, feminine in its tones with the slightest of quivers hidden beneath the confidence of its words. Alert, blood running high, your grip tightened around the dagger still clutched between your shaking fingers. Fighting the instinct to run straight at the door, the time crumbling between your hands still nagging at your mind, you continued your slow pursuit; a tiger stalking its prey.</p><p>Your fingers wrapped around the thick wooden door, your body crept in just slowly enough to just avoid alerting the old man sitting in a royal blue, velvet armchair, facing the windows directly ahead. You could see his side profile, his appearance aged since your first interaction, but the wooden pick was still held between his pursed lips, eyes closed. His hair was thinner, whiter than all those years before, skin thin and sagging, but the sudden flow of anger running through you at his appearance had you barely noticing his differences. In that moment, he had to die.</p><p>The room was twice the size of Isha and Leons inn, with two great windows on the wall facing the front of the house, a large desk and chair pushed into the back and a wide set of book cases spanning the entirety of wall across from you. Pinkish light filtered in through the glass, creating a calming scene to the naked eye. You knew better than to assume such a concept.</p><p>The voice, it seemed, came from the young girl sat on a stool beside him, facing the wall on the opposite side of a room with a thick book on her lap. Though you could not see her face, you could tell she was small, possibly eight or nine years in age, with a thin layer of ebony hair falling to her narrow shoulder bones, highlighted even beneath the baggy grey dress she wore.</p><p>You didn't want her to see this, not a child so young, but somewhere within, you knew she had seen worse. Even at such a young age, she wouldn't be blind to the horrors of the world, wouldn't be thankful towards the man that put her in chains. As her arm twitched, flipping a thin page over, you caught just a glimpse of the symbol etched into her skin, the scar still angry and red. She deserved to go home.</p><p>But her presence made the job a lot harder.</p><p>Still stood rigidly beside the door, you thought on the spot, your brain whirring with possibilities as you fumbled with the right way to go about this situation. Four minutes left, you didn't have time.</p><p>Your high adrenaline meant you were across the room in seconds, ears almost numb to the girl's screams as you dragged her backward off the stool and flung her behind you before entrapping the man, still sat, within your arms. One hand clutched his chin, dragging it upwards so that you could meet his furious eyes, wrought with surprise, the other holding your blade to his throat as you swept his body, searching for any weapons. He let out a single, strangled cry before he fell silent, words caught in his throat.</p><p>Sneaking a glance at the little girl as she pulled herself into a ball in the corner of the room, looking up at you fearfully, you did your best to convey your empathy towards her. You understood her situation, perhaps better than anybody else ever would, and you wanted her trust.</p><p>With Benjamin still beneath your blade, too terrified to even murmur a plea for mercy, you held your eye contact with the tiny girl, giving her the kindest smile you could despite your chattering teeth.</p><p>"Augustus sent me to help," You said gently, giving her the full intensity of your honest gaze as she stared wide blue eyes at you. "He said this old brute," You gave Benjamin's chin a jerk, eliciting a horrified yelp. "Was a mean old man. I'm here to make sure you go home."</p><p>She still said nothing, eyebrows drawn together as she stared at you from beneath a sheet of dark hair. Her thin fingers intertwined as they fidgeted, shaking slightly as she did so. They reached up subconsciously to rub the fresh scar on her arm, her thumb circling the symbol as she thought. Noticing the habit, you slowly withdrew the dagger from Benjamin's neck and, fingers still grasping the handle, used your fist to draw up the sleeve on your arm, letting her frantic eyes fall upon your own mark. You kept your actions slow and purposeful to avoid scaring her even more, but you found her reaction similar to Ausgustus'. Her brows unknit, her shoulders slackened, round blue eyes coming up to meet your own as she took a tentative step towards you.</p><p>"I'm going to help you go home, I'm going to make sure this man never comes near you again." Drawing the dagger back to Benjamin's neck, you barely noticed the man's breath shake as the cool blade made contact with his thin skin, eyes firmly on the girl.</p><p>"Never?" Her hesitant voice crushed you, sending icy waves through your body that nearly brought you to a sob. A girl so young, so innocent, her hope still glimmering despite the torture she had endured.</p><p>"Never."</p><p>Surprisingly, she took another step forward, then another, until she stood just behind you, bringing a tiny arm up to clasp around the marred flesh of your forearm. You quietly gasped at the contact, feeling bony fingers wrap comfortingly over the scar and you met her eyes to see the message they were portraying. A silent 'do it', using her own tiny body to comfort you, help you commit the awful action you were about to enact. The action, the thought process behind just a powerful demonstration bowed you even further into sadness at what the poor girl had gone through to be prepared for such an act. It fuelled you from your chest outwards, filling your entire being with a soft, sad warmth. Your hands stopped shaking, suddenly stilling as your anxiety fell from your skin and through the floor. You knew what you had to do, the purpose twitched the blade, nicking the man's neck as he cried silent tears, finally opening his mouth to utter his final words.</p><p>"PLEA-!" The outburst was interrupted as the room fell apart, bursting with a ringing noise that had you flinching out of your sudden epiphany. Across the room, on the wall marking the front of the house, the two large windows letting in the dying suns beams burst with an ear piercing crash. The air became alight with the glittering, falling rains of glimmering crystals, crushed and jagged as they fell to the carpet. Within this tangled mess, as your eyes tried to adjust to the scene before you, four people emerged through the shattered holes, rolling over the broken glass now gleaming in the late sun from the carpet. Breath caught with horror, your grip tightened in shock, jumping backward slightly and worsening the small cut dripping blood from Benjamin's neck.</p><p>The little girl darted behind you with a cry and you did your best to press your body against hers, giving her the only human contact you possibly could in reassurance with your hands still keeping the man in front of you in place. Shit.</p><p>The military members who had crashed to the ground spun with fluidity and rose to their full height as if nothing had happened, each surveying you with wild looks of animosity.</p><p>You had been too late.</p><p>"Drop your blade and step away from Mr. Pollent and the child." A cold voice had you darting your head to the front of the group, your blood running cold at the sight of man it had come from. If you hadn't seen him before, you perhaps wouldn't have recognised the deep black hair framing icy grey eyes, maybe underestimated his pure skill and ability. But the sight of Levi Ackerman, glaring at you from mere feet away had you nearly sobbing with frustration. Realising your mistakes in the horror painted clearly across your face, you forced yourself to settle it into one of animosity, one you hoped was akin to his own.</p><p>"No."</p><p>Your own voice surprised you, the scratchy gruffness as you imitated a man's tone. It would nearly be comical if you didn't feel so sick, so terrified of what the soldiers before you could do in the next few seconds. The other's faces darkened drastically at your refusal, two men and a woman, but Ackerman's face didn't even twitch, still holding your gaze with an icy exterior.</p><p>"Hand them over and your punishment may be less severe," Was all he said, regarding you with such calmness that you second-guessed yourself, doubting every possible move. In that fumbling of lost hope, your thoughts went to the little girl, still quivering behind you, and that in itself had you holding your ground. You didn't even know her name, you perhaps never would, but it was now your duty to protect her.</p><p>"No."</p><p>Ackerman clicked his tongue, face still impassive as he surveyed the situation, letting out a scoffed 'tch'. The silence almost had you begging him to talk, to say anything as your stomach fell to your feet. Just the act of holding his malevolent glare made you feel as though spiders were crawling against your skin.</p><p>No, you would not be intimidated by this man, this man, whose specialty was titans, not humans. You could best them, you knew you could, you just needed more time. With Benjamin gone, you could at least trust these strangers to find the girl a home, to take her away from the corruption that layered the walls.</p><p>Trying to melt your frantic expression into one of comical ease, you dropped your pursed lips into an ease smile, stilling your shaking hands. "You didn't catch me last time, Cap'n," You grinned forcefully, tapping the blade against Benjamin's quivering throat, stalling for time. "What's the saying? Third dates the charm. Maybe next time, eh?"</p><p>You had no plan, absolutely nothing to do, your only incentive was to have them second guess you, keep them listening as you plotted a way out. The door was still open, an easy escape if you were quick enough, but you needed Ackerman and his men to loosen up.</p><p>"I mean," You let out a breathy chuckle, plotting behind your words. "I am a sucker for a candlelit dinner, maybe some flowers?" They still said nothing, eyes tracking your body for any sign of movement, any indication of your plans. You realized then that they weren't going to approach you until Benjamin Pollent and the little girl was well away from harm, and that only your torso and up were even visible.</p><p>Keeping your body as still as possible, mind still wracking for stupid things to say to stall time, you brought the heel of your foot back and tapped the edge of the girl's foot gently, bringing her attention down. You maintained absolute eye contact with Ackerman only as you shifted your foot so that your toes pointed towards the corner of the room painfully, trying not to wobble at the awkward position and hoping beyond hope that the girl understood you. She gave your arm the tiniest of squeezes. Thank the gods.</p><p>"Something tells me though," You drawled, subtly digging your blade into the wheezing man's throat below you, keeping the shaky adrenaline out of your voice in case they caught on to your plan. "You aren't the dating type."</p><p>You tapped your foot quietly on the ground as your grip tightened on the blade, feeling as though Ackerman's eyes were swallowing you hole, icy grey feasting upon your fear. For a second, you felt as though you were a titan yourself, staring at your doom before his blades embedded their way into your neck.</p><p>"In which case," The girl gave your arm a final squeeze as you tapped your boot once again, the military seemed blissfully unaware of your escape. "I think I should," Your entire body shook with each heartbeat, thumping against your chest so frantically you worried it might pop out of your ribcage entirely. You tapped your boot a third time.</p><p>"GO."</p><p>The girl's feet went into a mad dash to the corner of the room, throwing herself away from the ruckus as your blade slashed deep into Benjamin's throat. He let out a gurgled howl of pain as blood splurged from his neck in thick red waves, and you used the distraction to leap into the hallway, slamming the door behind you shut in frantic desperation.</p><p>But it didn't slam, it merely thumped as a body got in its way and you spared a glance behind you to see furious grey eyes on your trail, brown boots grazing your heels as you sprinted to the balcony as quickly as you could under layers of heavy clothes. His gaze held such a white-hot ferocity, you nearly stumbled upon sight, but your feet pounded on against the deep floorboards, probably scuffing hours of dutiful work.</p><p>The stairs came into sight, your hands fumbled within your coat until they grasped the devices latched onto your belt, coat billowing out behind you. Your feet found the very edge of the balcony, begging you to throw yourself down them in an attempt to escape, but instead, you propelled yourself up onto the banister, using all your strength to use it as a stepping stone as your arms parted the coat hiding your frame, fingers clenching around the devices now free from your belt as you flew through the air.</p><p>Two bolts detached themselves from your hips, propelling upwards the smashing through the window above the entrance, basking the foyer in glittering shards of glass as they latched onto something outside and pulled you through the broken waterfall mid leap. Tiny knives slashed through your exposed skin as you took flight, dislodging the hooks as soon as you were free of the house. Knowing you were out of your league and in a mad desperation to escape, you swiveled your body in mid-air and sent them off again down the street, feeling the wind lick at your scratched face, numbing the thin wounds grazing the flesh.</p><p>A whizzing sound alerted you to the Captains' presence, only seconds behind you, and you increased the pressure of the gas, flying ever quicker through the evening air, still faintly alight with soft golden as you swung from building to building. There was no plan with Levi Ackerman hot on your trials, but you'd be damned if you gave up now. You trusted your brain to come up with something on the spot.</p><p>Your instincts nagged at you to draw a set of blades from the thick holsters on your sides, but you fought the temptation. The chances of besting the captain of the Scout Regiment were slim at best and you had no intentions of trying to hurt the bastard, despite the threat he posed against you. Just as the thought occurred to you, you heard the metallic whir of blades being withdrawn and you cursed the bastard even more. This daring escape was getting worse by the second.</p><p>Just as your desperations worsened, knotting into a thick black tangle in your stomach, a thought occurred. Outside the walls, marked similarly by aged golden circles, were a collection of entrances, hidden behind false doors disguised as bricks. You had discovered them in your early explorations but had no need to find yourself outside of the cities. If you climbed the southernmost wall of Ehrmich at the very centre, a passageway was almost exactly beside the main entrance to the city, taking you underground in a straight line to Trost. Gritting your teeth, you swung your body round to change direction.</p><p>The wall was already close, drawing in faster than ever with the help of the gear. People were emerging from their houses, looking up in shock at the dark figure and famed scout taking chase in the sky above them but you didn't have time to pay attention to their gasps and calls. The wind whipped the sweat and blood clean off your face as you soured, a bubbling light of hope igniting as you closed in, completely oblivious to the noises coming from behind you.</p><p>You flicked your fingers to dislodge the hooks from their temporary home in a tall building and, just as you fumbled to plummet them further into the street, a white-hot flash ignited your back.</p><p>
  <em>Darkness. Sweeping darkness all around you, only the odd candlelight filling the room. Your eyes couldn't adjust, never finding a balance between black and soft golden, only aching blearily as you constantly tried to recognize something, </em>
  <strong>
    <em>anything.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Over and over and over again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Leather digging into your ankles and wrists, spreading them apart rigidly, so high up that your toes could only just brush the floor, attempting to support your body weight.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Screaming. Horrified, pained, strangled screaming, and the scars that came with it. The furious edge of a heartless whip and the man behind it, the laughter that played tribute to your pleas and cries. Being unable to feel the warm blood running down your spine, soaking into your rough shirt through the unbearable agony electrifying your entire being.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Begging to the three gods and more, anyone who would listen, to take it away, to make it all stop.</em>
</p><p>Your back arched, eyes widening as your hands went numb at the memory flashing past your vision. You barely felt the collision with the ground, shaking harder than you had in years, hot tears streaming down your face that you couldn't quite register. You rolled against the hard ground numbly, doing everything in your might to bring yourself back to reality but the flashbacks <em>just kept coming. </em>It burned your retinas and left your whole body aflame as you pushed and pushed, slowing to a stop against the ground and trying to pull yourself up to a stand.</p><p>You couldn't feel the pain bouncing through your bones from the fall, nor the scrapes and scratches that burned your flesh, only the white-hot slash against the centre of your back.</p><p>Breath could in your throat, you looked up from your crouched position to the man still above you, swinging slightly in his harness though pulled to a stop, face impassive though somewhat curious as he gazed down at you. The cut hadn't been that bad, he hadn't aimed to kill, but your tears were hot and quick against your skin, terror written plainly across your face as you attempted to control yourself, bring yourself back to the current.</p><p>You held each other's gaze like that for just a second, him confused and you horrified, until a gust of wind came, wracking your coat and blowing your baker's hat straight off.</p><p>You were in too much pain to care, still holding that eye contact even as your hair detangled itself from the rolled tuck you folded it into to fit into the cap. For a second, your hair whipped around your face in the breeze until his eyes widened, the first real emotion you'd seen on that cold face since your first interaction.</p><p>He knew you were a girl. He had seen past the disguise.</p><p>The surprise was enough to shake you out of your blind stupor, flashing an arm out to grab the hat and shoving it over your forehead, letting your hair run free from its confines as you pulled into a run and shot back off.</p><p>You didn't look behind you, you didn't know how close he was or if he even moved from his perch. It didn't matter. In one final act of desperation, you arched your aim upwards and shot off, higher and higher until your feet met the wall with a resounding thump and you broke into an upwards run, kept upright by the anchors.</p><p>The wind whistled in your ears but you didn't dare look down, using the rigid hooks to hold you in place above as you half sprinted, half clawed up the Great Wall Sheena until you hit the top.</p><p>You had never been this high up before and you never wanted to do so again. Your legs burned and your lungs heaved as you ran across the wide footing at the top, watching endless blue fill the skies to the horizon before you. As the edge graced the tops of your books, without a glance behind you, you flung yourself off the side.</p><p>The freedom you felt wasn't like anything else before, nothing but cold wind slapping your face as you free-fell to your doom. Just as you hit the halfway mark, you jammed the hooks back into the stone and slowed your descent, just enough to quickly inch yourself to solid ground. It was immense, incredible, watching the rolling fields and incredible trees grow closer and closer as you slammed back against the wall and lowered yourself achingly down.</p><p>You didn't have time to appreciate the surroundings, nor to take a quick victory breath after the daunting horrors of your escape, only a quick look above to see that no one was peering down at you yet, nor following your brave descent.</p><p>The golden circle stuck out like a sore thumb to your trained eyes, and in a flash, you had pushed the fake bricks inwards and tumbled into the eye-aching black tunnel, wedging the entrance closed just as quickly.</p><p>Fucking hell.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Destiny Is Calling Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The skies were as black as the tunnels by the time you made your way into the streets of Trost, wobbling dangerously with exhaustion. You didn't have the energy to roll your hair back up into the baker boy hat, not to even attempt to hide your weakened figure as you slumped through the dead night back to the Inn.</p><p>The journey home was beyond awful, beyond anything you could imagine in terms of traipsing through the secret passageways. Adrenaline ran dry in due time and you were left with nothing but the thumping pain of your back. Despite the cut not running too deep, it brought so much to your mind that you couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of steel slashing through skin, the white hot burn of fresh tearing apart. Blood had long since seeped into the back of your shirt, sticking the rough fabric to your tender skin, though it scabbed over not long into your walk, tugging painfully with every step. With no bandages to wrap around the wound and a gaping hole in your coat and shirt, you simply had to grit your teeth and bear it, lighting a candle from within your pocket as soon as your shaking hands stilled and slowly navigating your way home.</p><p>You knew why you couldn't keep the tears at bay, why every instinct shooting through your brain told you to curl up into a corner and sob openly, yet you kept walking until your legs turned to jelly and your spine slackened.</p><p>
  <em>"Tell me, (Y/N), do you believe in god?"</em>
</p><p>Your eyes screwed shut, fingernails embedding deeper and deeper into your palms until the first pinpricks of blood seeped to the surface. <em>Its okay, everything okay. </em></p><p>As the Inn drew nearer, you felt your knees begin to buckle, tears swimming back into your tired as you forced yourself further, exhaustion and a sickening fear overwhelming you completely. The tiniest of lights flickered from behind the window as you drew closer, eyes bleary as you attempted to focus on something, anything to take your mind off the past and put it back in the present. </p><p>You stumbled into the wall as you rounded the Inn, approaching the backdoor, and winced at the collision, your entire body pulling you towards the ground as though gravity itself was caving in around you. Cold, shaking fingertips just barely stroked the handle before it was flung open, a wide eyed Klaus gazing at you from the other side of the entrance. The simple force of the door had you stumbling even further, nearly falling to your knees had the older man not caught you by the shoulders, mumbling something you couldn't quite hear. A ringing was igniting in your ears, swallowing you whole as you attempted to grasp onto the situation, feeling your mind drift away.</p><p>Another arm looped out of nowhere to gather you up so that your shoulder blades were pressed against two different chests. Their bodily warmth filled you with something close to comfort but you were too disorientated to truly register your surroundings, leaning into the touch despite the jolts of pain it sent down your marred back. They pulled you through the threshold and into the long empty pub, murmuring words just out of your reach as you accepted their navigation. The world around you was shades of blurry brown, an ancient carpet and then the mild flickering of gold. Somebody rested you down gently so that you crumpled into a sitting, still leaning entirely on your supporters as a new figure sparked into your vision, concern written vividly over their blurred features. They gazed up, attentive as though listening to something, before you were lowered down until you lay awkwardly on your side. You had no strength to protest against the change in position, only wince and cringe as you felt something brush up against the hole in your clothes, yelling something from behind you. Your eyes squeezed shut once again, hands coming up to your face as you tried make sense of everything. Fingers curled into fists and you bit down on the skin as the thick fabric was ripped away from your back, gasping at the cool air on your spine as your wound ripped open once more.</p><p>For just a brief moment, the ringing stopped entirely, your gaze beginning to focus enough to see a woman kneeled by your head, waving her arms towards something behind you, mouth moving wordlessly. The air seemed to breathe itself, thumping around you for just that second as everything became vividly clear. You could see the slow, early licks of a small flame, crackling gently within its stone confines, a collection of photos atop the fireplace, the worn mirror above them. The thin, burgundy carpet, worn with age, pressed against your body as you lay against it, pulling you deeper and deeper into the deep red. Everything stilled as you tried to make sense of your surroundings, focused entirely on the painted picture in front of you, and then a burning icy splash ignited your marred flesh.</p><p>Screaming. Hot and cold, wild and raw. It took you a moment to realise the sound was coming from your stretched mouth, hoarse and loud as anything you had ever heard. Your entire body stretched, limbs curling and tightening, fingers so tightly straight you could have broken them like an old stick. Somebody pressed you further into the ground as you fought against the pain, the pure agony crawling against the skin of your back, their body weight collapsed against the tips of your shoulders while another held down the small of your spine. Only your arms and legs could thrash about, nails scraping and clawing at the worn wool, ruffling the carpet as you flailed. A face was beside your own, hot breath tickling your jaw as they murmured into your ear; words you couldn't make out over your own suffering, they only ignited you further. You couldn't feel the tears streaming down your cheeks, the pain in your hands as they beat into the ground, only the agony behind you.</p><p>A hand pressed against your mouth and your eyes widened even more, squirming weakly in protest. You couldn't form a single coherent thought to attempt to convey into words, only scream mutely against the flesh covering your lips. You couldn't do this, you couldn't, god please make it stop. The pain was was absolute, unwavering, holding you up by your wrought flesh and hanging you in front of death itself, grinning at your attempts of freedom.</p><p>And then the screaming stopped, the world was entirely silent. Your brow slackened, your eyes focused back on that fireplace, now brighter than before. Even the pain seemed to go, leaving you exposed and completely numb, both inside and out.</p><p>And then a different kind of pain, a piercing pain, and you didn't have time to get the senseless noise rising in your chest out before you lids flickered, face twitching as your eyes fled backwards and your head thumped to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>When you woke up time had stopped completely. You could see the patchy red of the back of your eyelids, hear the soft ruffling of your curtains, feel the hard bed beneath you, but it was as though you, yourself, were absent from the scene. Your limbs would not move, no matter how many times you instructed your arms to push you up. Your eyes would not greet the world, refusing to emerge from the darkness. You tried to hum, even just to prove you were alive at all, but only a scratch formed in the pit of your throat, a strange, painful hissing as you attempted to gurgle out words.</p><p>You didn't remember falling back asleep, only that, when you awoke a second time, your entire body was tingling as though your bones were vibrating from deep within. Your eyes managed to flutter open groggily.</p><p>Surprisingly, the first thing you noticed was the thick layer of drool pooling around your chin and onto the pillow beneath you. It was, by far, not the worst thing to come to terms with first thing, but you snorted all the same, mouth opening as you attempted to pull you head up and wipe the saliva off your face. All you managed to do throw a limp fist into your nose as your tongue rolled straight out from your jaw.</p><p>You couldn't hold in the shocked, slightly pained 'Thurh?' as you dragged your heavy tongue back into your mouth, feeling far too thick and sluggish compared to usual. What was usual? You couldn't even really remember...</p><p>Somebody coughed a laugh from somewhere in your vicinity at the same time as another wretched. Flinging your head up in surprise, it all came back to you, shaky eyes falling on the silhouettes of Klaus and Tommen, laughing in their chairs beside you.</p><p>"Fwat?" You mumbled, doing everything in your power to keep your wavering skull rightened atop your struggling neck. It only made them laugh harder.</p><p>"Y-you really are," Tommen spluttered between heavy breaths. "The most h-ideous sleeper." The words sent both boys back into ceaseless chortles and you didn't even bother to look at them anymore, flinging your head back into the pillow with a 'Hmph'.</p><p>"No," Klaus had a strange clash of both looking amused and disgusted at the same time, addressing his brother. "You don't have to sleep in that bed."</p><p>If he hadn't said that, you wouldn't have even realised you weren't in your usual room, apparently completely oblivious to why the brothers would even be in here as well as the unfamiliar setting.</p><p>Your voice was muffled against the sheets but they easily caught onto your words, laughing even harder. "Shut up, Klaus, or I'll spit on your pillow." Your tongue seemed to have gotten slightly closer to normality, but you still sounded sluggish as though drunk.</p><p>"It seems you're well ahead of the game with that one."</p><p>You could tell Klaus was gesturing to your ridiculously embarrassing supply of drool deposited on his sheets, but you still emitted a snarky scoff. "Then I'll piss your bed."</p><p>Klaus stopped his chortles at that one, but the comment fired Tommen off even further. "I'm not gonna be the one to check on that," He snickered, elbowing his disgruntled brother.</p><p>You couldn't lie, despite your initial horror at being babysat by your lumbering half-roommates, and drooling over one of their beds, they could still bring a twitching smile to your lips.</p><p>The air stayed quiet for a while, all of you comfortable with each others company, the dust shifting the only notion of passing time. When their amusement ran down to its last dregs, and you were feeling your body slump back into paralysis, Tommen finally spoke again, throat slightly dry from his giggles.</p><p>"Mom and Dad shut the Inn for the day, you're under strict instructions to stay in bed for a few days."</p><p>His voice wasn't solemn or condemning, simply dry. He wasn't offering you a solution or punishing you for your recklessness, merely informing you of how 'it was'. You could only offer a muffled groan in response, feeling a rough hand tackle the top of your hair-ruffled head cheekily. "Go to bed, twat-bag."</p><p>You complied without resistance.</p><p>The next few days went by with very little to say or do. You spent most of your time sleeping, barely having time between exhausted naps to feel boredom crawl its way into your mind. You were kept in the boys room while they, quite uncomfortably, shared your own, making it a lot easier for their mother to check up on you regularly. She'd come wake you up three times a day, offer a small selection of now stale bread and dry meat that you had brought back from Sheena, force some water down your aching throat and then stroke your limp hair until you fell back asleep. At first, you felt slightly awkward at the interaction, unused to such intense care, but you were at no means to look after yourself, and it quickly became comforting. She would check your wounds, strip and boil linen to to change your bandages, and offer easy small talk when you began to claw onto consciousness for longer. </p><p>You found that your condition was less to do with your injury, having not lost too much blood following your interaction with the perpetrator himself, but the exhaustion that it brought along. You had run on nothing but adrenaline for hours, all while maintaining quite serious injuries, and burnt yourself completely out in the process. It was a miracle you managed to find your way home that night rather than collapsing in the tunnels. After five days or so, you were back on your feet, the previous gash in your back replaced with thick, itchy scab and your energy up enough for you to go back to shifts.</p><p>It was quite nice, if anything, to get back to normal, chatting with customers and spending your days surrounded by the thick smell of food and beer. As much as you had appreciated the loaned room and meticulous care given by the Krüger family, you needed a chance to do something to clear your head. As the exhaustion wore off, your thoughts drew back to the events of the incident more frequently, always shooting you full of anxiety. You had barely escaped, and while you had yet to see your real face and hair printed across every newspaper in all the remaining walls, you were sure it was to come. The only thing keeping you mildly reassured was the agreement you had set up with Isha and Leon.</p><p>In the event that you were captured, you were to refuse to give your name until your face went around the papers. The couple would then alert the military police, feigning ignorance of your nightly activities to tell them they 'suspected' that the criminal at hand was their barmaid, handing over your details to keep them out of harms way. If all went to plan, they would be seen as completely innocent, civilians caught in the political crossfire, willing to give you up to prove they had no part in your crimes, and you would simply have to go your separate ways. It was cruel and relied entirely on their willingness to push you aside, but it was the only way you could think of for them to remain safe. If you were caught, it would only be a matter of time before the police tracked down your home; it was better if they heard it straight from the residents.</p><p>When Leon, disapproving of your plan, asked you what they were to say should the Military question them on their assumptions of your peculiar long nights out, you were quick to inform the family that they ought to, without hesitation, tell the fuckers they thought you were a harlot. It earned you a nick around the ear, but it still brought a smile to your face despite your crumbling situation.</p><p>Still, you were at least glad you had managed to save two children during your endeavour, something you hadn't managed until now. Most of your targets had been the backbone of the industry, the men organising the corruption. It wasn't often they had slaves of their own, preferring to sell rather than buy. Benjamin was a lucky exception.</p><p>Of course, you wanted to go after every bastard who ever saw it decent to trade in human lives, but the best way to crush and organisation was to cut off the head at the shoulders. It wasn't the best, but you were one person.</p><p>There used to be more.</p><p>No, you weren't going to think about them right now. They were the past, you were the present, it didn't do well to dwell on the lost.</p><p>So, between shifts, idle chat and Isha's endless nursing, you plotted as you had done before, undeterred from your mission despite the ruthless bastard on your tail. His not-so-subtle approach definitely had you on edge, but with him knowing your face now anyway, it would probably only be a matter of time before you were caught anyway. It was better if you managed to kill as many sons-of-bitches as you could before that time came.</p><p>It was strange how easily you found yourself accepting your looming downfall. It only dawned on you then just how obsessed you were with this mission, just how ruined your life was. You knew, despite your promises, that Alden Baxter and every other person you had sworn to would forgive you for putting the mission aside, living the life you earned rather than throwing it into a jail cell, or better yet, a noose.</p><p>You still couldn't push the desperation away.</p><p>It wasn't so much about you, longing to live in a world free of those creatures who tore you down, or them, with their lives lost or in shambles. It was about the countless children still sitting in chains, being traded like cattle day in and day out without a single thought to their livelihoods. Even Isha and Leon understood that, offering you a home to come back to after dismantling the corrupt system, they were just yet to accept your sullen fate.</p><p>You knew you didn't have their blessing to go up and at em' as soon as you could stand again, and Tommen was watching you out front from the beginning of your shift until the end, only stopping when his mother rounded you up to your room to rest. So you planned, you waited a few short days, washing and stitching your broken uniform behind closed doors, and set your eyes on the next poor soul who dared to cross you.</p><p>His name was Ibset and you knew his address by heart, ever since you first stepped foot into the organisation. It was strange to you that you didn't remember the group that stole you from your own home, but Alden Baxters kidnapper was stamped into your brain from the moment you met the poor boy.</p><p>In the system, children were paired up upon arrival, picked and put together depending on their age group. Just one year your senior, Alden was given the title of your partner from day one, sold side by side with you to every home you went to. The general goal was to give every child a single friend, the closest a person could ever be to somebody, and then use them against each other. You would stay good, be on your best behaviour, or you would both be beaten and whipped into shape. They didn't believe that the pain itself was enough to deter a broken soul, but when you have one person who had been by your side from the beginning, you wouldn't want them hurt, especially for your own actions.</p><p>You grew close to Alden because you had to, because he was the only one who stayed permanent. You rued the day you had to leave him behind, but Ibset was just a small repayment to the boy you could call a soulmate. Killing the man who put him in the system was the only revenge he could get and you would stop at absolutely nothing to achieve it. Your final Ehlmrich victim before moving on to a new city.</p><p>So, eight days after Benjamin Pollent's demise, on your day off, you brought each meal up until lunch to your bedroom, claiming to rest for the day. With the sweltering sun high in the sky, and your cover already blown, you opted to dress in merely Tommen's trousers and a cream blouse, tucking your blade into their large pockets. You had found that, after your daring escape, you had drained the 3DMG tanks completely dry and no longer had a use for them, so hiding the metal boxes under the coat wasn't an issue.</p><p>Your hair was tucked up into the baker boys hat in an attempt to avoid anybody recognising you as you made your way to the closest entrance in Trost to the tunnels and determination was set into your jaw as you pushed your windows open as far as they could go. With a silent goodbye to the family working downstairs, your slid onto the roof, edged your way onto the ground, and rounded the Inn with your head down. While you wouldn't usually opt to go out on a mission in broad daylight, you hoped it may confuse the police on your trails, resigned to believing you only worked nights. If you were lucky, they wouldn't expect you so early in the day and you might just make another lucky escape</p><p>For some reason though, this was the hardest goodbye.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whoo, I'm sorry that this isn't the worlds most interesting chapter but I wanted to do something. Its been an odd week. I got out of a nearly two year relationship, its my eighteenth on the 26th and I just found out my brother needs surgery or he could be paralysed.</p><p>So I probably won't post another update for another few days but I promise im on it! Next one should be meaty.</p><p> </p><p>Also thank you so so much to anyone who's left kudos and comments, they absolutely brighten my day when I get an email and I try my best to check regularly so I can respond to anything :)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Losing Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A shortie but I've been drunk since my birthday and doing instant creative writing at college! Working on the next :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Your breath tore through your lungs harsher than a whips crack as you ran, what little muscle in your legs screaming with every push. Yelling was all around you, screams of agony as your companions were shot down like cattle, begging for your help. You kept your eyes straight forward, you didn't look back at them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thick, sludgy mud pulled at your bare feet, smacking loudly as you sprinted, dry, hay coloured streams of grass brushing as high as your thighs. Your dress was long since torn to shreds, now barely reaching your knees in thin tatters of fabric, splattered with mud and blood, wet and dry. Tears threatened to spill over your cheeks in your desperation, dragging yourself onwards and stumbling with every step, pulled along only by the strong hand clasping your own. Your throat and lungs ached too much to succumb to the temptation, though your body craved you rest, give up now before you got any further. It had been so long since you ran.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You heard the wet slap beside you before the gunshot itself, and twisted your entire body, feet still pounding, to see the shocked girl scrambling on the ground. Marya, you thought, though with the streaks of brown and red smudged over her face and hair in thick layers, you couldn't be quite sure. All you could be sure of was the look of pure, agonising fear written plainly across her face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"(Y/N)!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You gasped shakily at the scream, cracked and sodden with desperation as she flailed, slipping over and over again in the mud, clutching her streaming abdomen. Throat muscles contracted as you let out a dry sob, willing your head forward once more, hand just slipping from Alden's firm grip.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"PLEASE!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bringing your other fist up to your mouth, you held in the next wail as you left the poor girl behind, hoping the cannon-ball thumping of your heart would block out what came next. Not your pulse in your ears, nor your racing breaths could keep her screams at bay when the first bark sounded, ripping her flesh from her body with a ferocity unknown to man itself.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He had set his dogs on you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"RUN!" You shrieked to your friend, watching the silhouettes of people ahead of you push their bodies as fast as they could go. He listened. Tightening his clasp against your fingers, face screwed up in terror, Alden picked up the pace as much as he could, practically dragging you behind him. The night was too dark to make out much besides the horizon line, shielded by woods. Once there, you could climb the thick, sheltered trees, safe from the eyes of his dogs and men, and wait until the coast was clear. It wasn't so far of now, only a bit longer, you could make it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sweat pooled against your skin, sticking the thin fabric garments you wore to your body as though sopping wet despite the frigid, nightly cold. Not even the moon lit your escape, shielding you in complete, unwavering darkness. Your lungs felt as though they were about to collapse as you gasped and sobbed for air, pumping your arms in an effort to persuade your legs onwards. It pulled and scratched at your throat as though smoke was flooding into your body. You needed to cough but it would take too long, slow you down, and before long you would be in the mouth of his dogs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was so close, you could see the thin fence lining the property ahead, only a few hundred yards. You were going to make it. A smile nearly tore at your icy cheeks, freedom close enough to see your fellows victors scrambling over the wood. You stole a glance at Alden, just for a second, hoping you would meet his eyes and see that same expression lighting his sullen face, watch a rare grin break out amongst a near lifetime of frowns. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He turned his head, chestnut hair blowing under his hat in the speed of his run, averting his deep green eyes to you, only an arms length from the fence, and a shot lit up the night.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Only a low glimmer of light from behind you before you saw the impact against his fragile body, sending his right leg crashing to the ground as he lost its support. The freedom you yearned for fell from his face before it even took hold, washing away in turn of pure shock. His mouth opened wordlessly as you screamed, a noise that didn't reach your ears despite the way it tugged against your wrought skin. You didn't have enough time to register the danger of the situation, the reality of what the bullet trapped in his thigh would mean. All you could think to do was bend your body with his, wrapping the arm you previously held over your tired shoulders and lug him along, the pressure against your back nearly too much to bare. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your head fell backwards as you gasped, willing him forward just that bit more towards the fence, leaning your stomach over the side of the thin wood as you readjusted yourself, searching for air to fill your lungs with. Alden's body protested with every moment, the thin boy wincing as he forced the slightest of pressure against his leg. Even as you moved him off of you, readying your body to swing over your confines, his expression told you nothing but loss.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"C'mon," You uttered lowly, pushing your arms up to throw yourself awkwardly over the sides of the fence. Glancing back to him, legs dangling off the ground on the other side of the divide, you knew, deep within, that this was it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"<b>C'mon,</b>" You said again, desperation edging at your tone as you pushed yourself off, grasping his arm as though you could pull the crippled boy straight over. He shook his head, lips parted and trembling.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I can't."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hysteria pulled at your vocal cords and you nearly smiled at his reluctance, the days longevity wearing down your composure. "What do you mean you fucking can't? Of course you can now <b>come on</b>." Your jaw tightened at you stared straight into those beautiful green eyes, gazing at you with such sorrowful hopelessness that you sobbed before you could look away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"No, no, Alden, you're coming," You stumbled in a wild frenzy, pitch wobbling as you pulled against his leaden arm. The dogs barks were getting louder, men laughing at their findings as you tugged and tugged, begging him to join you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"(Y/N)," His own voice wobbled as he tried to retain his composure, glossy eyes scanning your face as though it were the last time he would ever see you. Your lips trembled, tears spilling over as an emptiness began to tug on your chest, sending your stomach plummeting. "I won't get far with my leg like this, you have to go."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'll fucking carry you, Alden, please," You changed your tactics, wrapping your arms around his torso to try to force his chest tumbling over the barrier between you as you sobbed against his body. The words that fell from your mouth were screamed and painful, scratching against your sore throat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alden hitched a sob, chest jerking against your hand as your weak arms pulled and pulled, mouth uttering tiny pleas as you cried.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I'll slow you down and they'll get you too, please just go."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His words only made you clutch onto him tighter, screwing your face up as you tried to come up with a plan, anything to get you both out alive. "Then I'll stay with you."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Two hands fell atop your shaking shoulders and pushed you back so quickly you stumbled, staring at his now despondent expression, begging you with his glossy eyes. "This was all for you, (Y/N), we did this because of you." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's there, staring into such vulnerability, lost in shades of calm green and ochre, that you would have done anything for Alden Baxter. You were at loss for words and he understood.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Removing a hand from your shoulder, he brought it up and clasped the worn, black baker boy hat he had worn since the beginning, revealing messy brown hair beneath. Eyes still wracking your face, imprinting it against his brain, he brought it up to your head and pushed it down, darkening the shadows against your brows.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I can't do this without you."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your voice was only a weakened echo of your previous screams, cracking with every word as you felt warmth tighten around your scalp. He only smiled slightly, pained though genuine. "I'll see you soon, (Y/N)."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He pushed you back, turning as he did just as a large dog lunged at him, its teeth embedding into the soft tissue of his arm. A shriek broke out through the night as men whooped from somewhere behind him, relishing in his agony. Your legs caught you before you could think to go back, pull the beast from your friend and carry him to victory. They disobeyed your desires, carrying you into the thick, shielded forest only meters away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His screams died out quickly, you didn't want to think about why. You could only cry as quietly as possible as you ran further and further into complete emptiness, tripping over uncovered roots and stumbling into unmerciful trees, cursing everything and everyone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Alden Baxter was gone from your life, ripped away by the men that put you together, ripped away by you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You sprinted for twenty minutes before you legs collapsed out from under you, and you didn't have the time to wallow in your own anguish on the muddy floor. Tired arms pulled you to a stand and up the first, thick tree you found with branches within stepping distance.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You climbed to the very top and stared at the ground below you, completely empty. You stayed there without food, without water but for short spouts of rainfall, listening to the quiet yells and distant screams of people you couldn't place, people you would probably never see again. You stayed there for three days.</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Nothing Else Mattered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was the earliest you had ever made an attack, the warm streets of Elhmrich still alive and beautiful with summers first warmth and the stalls just beginning to pack up for the night. Yellow and orange light reflected off clear windows and made the hay coloured buildings practically shine, promising blooming flowerbeds and possibly sweet fruits in the coming weeks. It was a cruel beauty, though it filled you with hope for your mission. Could the bright sun and happy cries of children foreshadow your victory against the man who stole Alden's life, or signal his survival, overcoming your attack? Of course, you didn't yet know, though the question unusually plagued you. Perhaps it was the earliness of the evening, having you strike in daylight rather than with the cover of night to shield your face, that had you so on edge. It was a difficult reminder that you no longer needed that protection, being that your features were known by the most dangerous man in existence. It was no longer necessary.</p><p>However, by the time you had made your way through back alleys to Ibset's home, the streets were practically empty. Still, that healthy light shone, yet no children were playing, no shops were active. Even the sounds of life seemed to have been blocked from your range, leaving just you and your thoughts. Strangely enough, you didn't feel such the same rush of adrenaline this time, in comparison to your previous missions. It almost felt like an inevitability, something that you couldn't fight, to kill the man who had destroyed the most important person in your life. Of course, you were glad to have met him, to be lucky enough to have felt the pure golden joy that Alden triggered, but the baker boy hat atop your head was the harsh reality of how that relationship ended.</p><p>Ibset's home was the fourth along the street, an unattractively short but wide building with a traditional set of four, wide windows across the two floors. Taking the worlds silence as an opportunity, you strolled right up to the brown front door, gritted your teeth, and tested the handle. </p><p>It swung open immediately, granting you easy access to the goods within. You supposed it wasn't abnormal to keep your house unlocked during such early hours, with most people not having the balls to let themselves in. Still, with a deranged, vigilante-killer on the loose, he could have been a little more careful in terms of his own safety.</p><p>Less grand than Benjamin Pollent's foyer, the door opened to a rather modest (In terms of Sheena) hallway, with a door to the end and your immediate left. The walls were made of thick wood, the floor of stone, and you carefully tested each opening to find a well equipped kitchen and dining room, and a lounging area fitted with a perfectly polished grand piano. You would have stayed to give yourself a real tour of the place, but time was still of the essence, and neither room showed signs of life.</p><p>Leaving the lounge, your eyes skirted to the other side of the hallway, featuring a spiralled set of stairs leading to the upper floors. It would have definitely been easier to barge in, kill the bastard where he stood, and left, rather than go through the entire house in search of him. You still had a good few painful bumps and bruises from your last escape from a top floor but, luckily, you hadn't specifically called on the police this time round. You had hope that this mission would be slightly less dangerous, with one less opportunity to throw yourself through a window.</p><p>Smirking slightly, you gently touched the wood of the bannister, aware enough not to condemn yourself to the bad luck of the assumption so soon. Touching wood was a strange old wives tale, but nerves moved your hand for you as you slowly took up the stairs, thankful for their cobblestone make in comparison to Benjamins. They made the journey up a lot less creaky and you only had to worry about tiptoeing so that the heel of your boot didn't clip against the surface.</p><p>Still, it all just seemed so silent, as though the house was completely empty save for the lavish furniture. The first story held the same pin-drop quiet as the ground floor and nervousness was just beginning to kick in. Had you gone to the wrong house? Was nobody home?</p><p>Hand beginning to tremor, you clutched onto your dagger and brought it out, backhanded, in front of you, ready to slice into anything in your way as you opened the first door you came across and slipped in.</p><p>Perhaps it was pure luck that you now stood in the bedroom of who you now knew to be Ibset's. It was far less beautiful than you expected, equipped with the bare minimum of a comfy looking double bed, a large dark wardrobe, a small desk and a window. The man himself was sat down, facing the glass panel, gazing at the world outside with an unreadable expression with no sign of even registering your presence. Ibset hadn't changed much since you had last seen him, still donning a pair of circular glasses that wrapped around the back of his head beneath a sheet of pale blonde hair, though his clothes were less perfect, eyes more sallow.</p><p>"I assume you're here to kill me, (Y/N) (S/N)." His voice was low and hoarse yet hinted at some level of intelligence, like a wise old man sharing secrets to a student. Your grip tightened as you walked around the bed to face him, blocking his view of the street.</p><p>"You know me too well."</p><p>His tired eyes slowly bored upwards to meet yours, rung with brown and purple, though they held no fear of the blade in your hand. "May I ask... why?"</p><p>A small gasp slipped past your lips at his words, hitching in your throat as your mouth went dry. "What?"</p><p>"Why you chose me?" Ibset's head ticked to the side as he observed you, as though he was unveiling each and every one of your secrets with complete innocence. "I know I have committed atrocities, but never against you."</p><p>You didn't know if he was toying with you, playing with his words to elicit a reaction, or simply that damn stupid, but anger was beginning to simmer beneath your skin. "You kidnapped a very good friend of mine, and sold him into the system like he was <em>nothing</em>," You snapped, scowling as your arm tensed, though he merely smiled.</p><p>"And that friend is?"</p><p>"Alden Baxter."</p><p>Ibset blinked owlishly for a moment, brows furrowing as if in deep concentration before focusing back on you. "Who?"</p><p>Your nostrils flared as you primed the blade, swinging back your arm to embed it in his throat. How dare he forget? How dare he act as though his disgusting actions held no consequences to the children he basically murdered?</p><p>But before you could finalise the attack, a boom erupted, and you didn't get a chance to look up before a great weight plummeted into your chest, knocking the breath out of you, and suddenly you were falling.</p><p>A brown boot was still planted over your breasts as you tumbled straight out of the window, skin tearing at the impact, and detached as you fell. With widened eyes, you only had a second to register the man swinging onto wall above your head, glaring down at you, was Levi Ackerman, and that your entire mission had been laid out for you from the start.</p><p>In a second, though, he was gone as you crashed and rolled onto the solid stone floor below. You were faintly glad to have had the breath knocked out of your prior to the collision, because your chest was too empty to be winded by the fall. However, the thumping pain that washed over the right side of your body was far worse than a simple kick. </p><p>Hay coloured bricks swam beneath your vision as you attempted to plant your elbows against the ground, grunting with the effort of pulling yourself to your feet. But, in a flash, with another jolt of pain to your abdomen, you were swung over. Bright light glared thoroughly down on you and the speed of it make you feel a little sick, squinting and coughing as the boot once again found home on your chest.</p><p>"So you are dumber than you look."</p><p>You wanted to cry at the sound of the deep, satisfied voice, and your eyes finally adjusted to find Ackerman looking down on you as though you were pure filth. He had abandoned his green cloak with the heat of the day so that the lowering sun shone proudly against his tan jacket, practically lighting up the wings of freedom on his shoulders and breast pocket. Coal black hair hung in layers over his antartic eyes, and just a hint of a smirk pulled at his lips. You wanted to spit at him in response but you knew that would only end up with having your own saliva dropping back down on your face. Instead, you settled on shooting him the worst scowl possible while still reeling with pain. It only seemed to make his expression more narcissistically victorious.</p><p>"You were becoming quite the hassle," He said quietly, crouching down ever so slightly to look at you straight in the eye, washing his gaze over you in icy waves. "But now I've got you right where I want you."</p><p>That was the ticking point. With the world still swimming in and out of focus, you growled and wrapped both arms around his ankle, one hand still firmly clutching your blade, and pulled his weight down. Before he could react with any kind of force, you brought a leg up as high as it would go and plunged it into his stomach, relishing at the grunt he let out as he tumbled backwards. You didn't have enough time to make an escape, but you darted away and to your feet in seconds, swooning slightly at the pain igniting even further in your side.</p><p>He took even less time to compose himself, immediately reclaiming full control of his body and glaring at you with enough intensity to burn the city to ashes. Even with a few metres now between you, you had never felt less safe in your life.</p><p>"You've gotten yourself in way over your head, brat."</p><p>"I made it out last time," You threw back, giving him your best impression of a cheeky grin despite the agony. "Besides, I thought you were a bit kinky, but I didn't know you were into name calling." The dagger was slipping in your sweaty grip, but you held it tightly, ready to attack at any given moment. </p><p>Levi ticked his head to the side slightly, sending slips of black hair over one eye. "And what was it you said to me... Third dates the charm?"</p><p>You scrunched your nose up at him using your own words against you, despite how well he pulled them off. </p><p>"My plan had never been to harm bystanders, captain, but you're really getting in my way"</p><p>Levi tilted his vision down, looking up at you through dark lashes and brows as he slotted each of his grips into the large metal holsters at his hips and unsheathed two blades with a sharp clang. "I wouldn't worry about me if I were you." He hinted darkly, flexing the swords so that sunlight glinted off the perfect steel.</p><p>"I think you're underestimating me." There was a nervous edge to your voice, wobbling your tone slightly as your eyes darted over the proud blades, one he picked up on.</p><p>"No, you're just wasting my time." Levi spun each sword over in his hands as he lowered his mass slightly, priming himself to attack. At that moment, your vision was drawn away slightly, focusing on the people now flittering across the street since your conversation started. About twenty officers surrounded you, though perhaps only half were immersed in your argument. The rest were unceremoniously crowded around Ibset himself, shaking slightly as an officer tightened a rope around his wrists.</p><p>You barely looked at Levi, eyes drawn tentatively by the man who had caused all of this. "Then I'll make sure this is quick," You said softly, launching yourself across the short distance between you.</p><p>You swung and clashed blades at the same time, though you were at the disadvantage of only having one in comparison to his two. Steel clung noisily, sending ripples up your arm as you dodged under his and sprinted, shaking off the vibrations quickly. Thankfully, the size of his swords made his fighting slightly longer distance than necessary, giving you the opportunity to sneak around one while blocking the other. It was a tricky game, constantly being apprehended by a glinting flash as you dodged and slashed. Eventually, you had to pause your advance, spinning around just in time to avoid the blade aimed at your neck, and hit his wrist with the dull side of your own dagger in the process, eliciting a hiss.</p><p>Still, despite the awkwardness of fighting close up with 3DM gear, Levi Ackerman was still a sight to behold. He moved with such precise grace, he could have been dancing, while you were left simply trying to block each perfectly delivered blow. </p><p>His eyes never once met yours, always focusing on where to aim for next; A careful knock to your side, a slice to your shoulder. Quite quickly, you were able to predict where he would next land just by keeping up with the movements of those blue-grey orbs, intertwining a few combat strikes of your own here and there. The two of you worked like dance partners, dodging and spinning, though he had landed far more cuts and bumps than you had.</p><p>However, this fight could have never gone on forever, and you were quickly slowing down, never quite matching his effortless strength and agility. You breaths were short and your arms tired by the time he caught on to how you had lasted so long. It was a simple, stupid mistake, that had you following his eyes to block your neck, and him hitting your already damaged side with pure ferocity. </p><p>You gasped back a shriek as your back arched and you legs gave out beneath you, while your dagger was kicked from your grasp as soon as your knees hit solid ground.</p><p>Exhaustion finally crept up on you, and you couldn't fight back against the blade suddenly pressed against the skin of your neck, caging you in between cold steel and Ackermans body, crouched behind you. Hot breath fanned against your ear as he moved his head to be practically brushing you (H/C) hair.</p><p>"Look's like the third date really was the charm, huh?"</p><p>There was no pride left within to be wounded, no emotions to bite back with. Your eyes remained on Ibset, only 20 metres away, being rounded into a prison cart with two officers, staring at you with a cruel satisfaction.</p><p>You realised then that he had assumed you would attack him, and handed himself in in return for his own deliberate arrest. He had traded his freedom for his safety, and ripped you from both of your own in the process. You had never hated a man more in your life, perhaps even more than your husband.</p><p>As you stared emptily at the beast in human skin, another man stepped over to you, nudging the baker boy hat off your head as he did so. The cruel perpetrator, a military police member judging by the green unicorn on his jacket,  didn't have the nerve to force you to look up at him as he got a good, unobstructed look at you, and for that you were glad. Your gaze moved to fall on the worn hat now resting on your lap. You had failed.</p><p>You didn't cry as you were lifted to your feet by the police, nor when they wove tight rope around your wrists and pushed you into your own cart. One took your hat and blade, but you could muster the energy to memorise who, you doubted it even mattered anymore.</p><p>You had failed Alden. You had failed everyone who had ever been forced into the system by Ibset, and you had failed yourself. You knew that the future wouldn't be good, as the doors to the cart were slammed shut and locked, bathing you in near darkness. That you would be imprisoned or hung for your crimes, and that you had made no real impact on the organisation you had sworn to destroy.</p><p>The journey wasn't long by any means, not in comparison to your usual trips from wall rose, but it felt like an eternity. You didn't know exactly where you were going, but you assumed it would be to Mitras, where you would await judgement from the government officials there, possibly even the king himself.</p><p>So you thought about the only people you could call a family. Guilt embedded its way into your system as you pondered how Isha and Leon would feel when they realised your room was empty, or if they already knew. If they would sleep tonight at all, knowing you were missing, and how they would find out you had been captured. You hoped that they would stick to your plan and wait until news of your arrest hit the papers before outing your identity.</p><p>Though, all you wanted was to sit down around the dinner table and laugh about the drunkest customers of the day, or learn a song with Tommen and Klaus. Ever so quietly, you cried at the memories you had with those incredible people, and the experiences with them you had been robbed of.</p><p>When the cart finally stopped and the door wrenched open, a bag was thrown over your head immediately. You were left in the suffocating darkness as you stumbled and tripped your way along with whoever was pulling you along. Left, then left, then right, then left. Your brain couldn't keep up with the directions, tired and disoriented completely as you were half carried to the destination. For a moment, you wondered if your fate had already been decided, that you were being taken to the gallows, but eventually you were thrown to solid ground.</p><p>The rope and bag weren't removed until thick, metal cuffs were wrapped firmly around your wrists and ankles, and you blinked at the darkness, wondering for a moment if you had hallucinated the sack being ripped from your head.</p><p>No, in that thick black you could just about make out four walls around you, and the faint outline of a bed. A door clanged shut with a harsh bang, having you whip your head around to the noise, but you couldn't find where it had originated from. Your shackles clinked and rung out as you moved, rubbing your aching wrists as best you could as you tried to work out what was going on.</p><p>You weren't blind so... you were in a cell? It made sense, but the overarching darkness made it difficult to truly understand your situation. All you could be thankful for was that you weren't dead quite yet, as best you could understand, though the overwhelming fear running through your veins kept you on the cold floor, too scared to explore the space around you.</p><p>Perhaps death would have been preferable to whatever hell the government had planned for you.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Flirtatious fighting?? 😳 Yikes</p><p>I am genuinely sorry if this is a bit shit, its definitely a little rushed so I can FINALLY get to the training part and beyond, but I hope ya'll liked it a little bit :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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